


Bad Day at Black Rock

by Min_SD



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barisi - Freeform, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson Friendship, Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. - Freeform, Secret Relationship, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Min_SD/pseuds/Min_SD
Summary: ...When the knock came Carisi thought Barba might be early and he answered the door without looking through the peephole.“Hey, Raf, why didn’t you just use your key—?” he said, then broke off when, instead of Barba, he saw the three large men standing in the hallway.  “Who—” he started, then saw the guns peeking out of their waistbands.
Relationships: Barisi, Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 49





	1. Taken

**Author's Note:**

> -This story is super dark, super violent, and it's super okay if you want to skip it for those reasons.
> 
> -Also, no beta, so I apologize for any and all typos and slips.
> 
> -This is a multi-chapter work, though I don't know how many yet--I will try to update as often as I can.

Barba woke up to the feeling of gentle kisses pressed to his jaw and neck. He smiled but did not open his eyes as the kisses trailed lower, across his collarbone, down to his nipple where a tongue licked and teeth nibbled at the hardened nub. Barba lifted his upper body to push up into that teasing touch, then finally opened his eyes to look down at the man he loved who was so busy loving him. 

“Sonny,” he moaned, burying his fingers in the morning mess of Carisi’s hair. 

Carisi looked up with a flash of sky-blue eyes but did not stop trailing kisses lower and lower. He eased Barba’s sleep pants down, tapping him on the side to get him to lift his hips so the pants could be pulled down to his ankles and then all the way off. His half-hard cock was freed, the cool air like a slap to his hot skin. 

Carisi kitten-licked and kissed a trail that went lower and lower until he was sucking a mark into the dip of Barba’s hip. Barba knew how much Carisi liked to mark him up, leave bruises and hickeys claiming Barba as his own. To look at him in the squad room, or especially in the courtroom and know his mark was there where no one could see it—looking at Barba with eyes that lingered on its location and then slid up to meet his eyes. To know that Barba’s heart would be pounding, know his dick would be half hard from the almost physical sensation of Carisi’s hot eyes raking over his body. 

Just thinking about it made Barba hard as an iron rod. His cock curved up to his abdomen, leaving a little pearl of pre-cum on his skin. Carisi breathed hot over his red, swollen cock, then licked a stripe up it. Barba squirmed as Carisi sucked at the tight globes of his sac, first one then the other, sending sparks shooting up his spine and whiting out his vision, leaving him practically vibrating with pleasure. 

Carisi ran his talented tongue up the thick vein on the underside of Barba’s cock, then traced the ridge of the head and lapped at the slit. Barba whimpered and then sucked in a hissing breath as Carisi swallowed him down to the root. Barba lifted his head so he could watch Carisi as his eyes fluttered shut and his cheeks hollowed, his head bobbing as he sucked. His hands roamed over Barba’s chest and hips, scratching lightly with his fingernails, leaving white lines that would quickly turn red. 

So beautiful, the way Carisi whimpered and moaned like he enjoyed nothing more in the world than to suck cock. Barba writhed and fought to keep from thrusting up into the hot, wet tunnel of Carisi’s throat. His toes curled and his fingers yanked hard on Carisi’s hair, to the point where it must have been painful, but Carisi just groaned and ground his hips into the mattress. 

Barba made a pained little moan when Carisi pulled off. Carisi looked up through a tangle of eyelashes and asked a little shyly, “Raf, will you fuck me?” 

“Of course, baby.” Barba rubbed his thumb along Carisi’s lower lip. “Get the lube.” 

Carisi climbed over Barba and crawled to the bedside table, where he yanked the top drawer out so hard he nearly pulled it all the way out. He grabbed up the lube and whirled around, slipping and nearly falling off the bed in his eagerness. 

Barba laughed and reached out for him, bringing him in for a kiss. “Come here,” he said, pulling Carisi into his lap. He drizzled lube over his fingers and started to open Carisi up. It was hard not to rush, what with Carisi making all kinds of breathy, porn-y sounds while Barba scissored him open. And when he crooked his fingers to press against his prostate, Carisi pushed back on his fingers and let out a long drawn-out moan that made it difficult for Barba not to come right then and there. He pulled his fingers out of Carisi and slapped him on the ass. “You’re killing me, baby, get a move on.” 

Carisi laughed but obeyed, scooting down to line himself up. Then, agonizingly slowly, Carisi lowered himself onto Barba’s cock, throwing his head back when he was fully seated and opening his mouth in a silent cry. Barba let out a hissing breath and took a moment to revel in the tight heat surrounding him before bucking up to encourage Carisi to move. With his knees bracketing Barba’s hips, Carisi lifted himself up so only the tip of Barba’s cock remained in him. Then he rolled his hips and took the stiff rod of Barba’s dick back inside himself. Once more he lifted up, and as, with a shuddering breath, he lowered himself again, Barba canted his hips, driving himself up, hard, to meet him. Carisi made a strangled sound and shivered. “ _Yesss_ ,” he breathed. 

Barba reached a hand out and Carisi leaned forward to take two fingers into his mouth. He laved them with his tongue, licking at the webbing and sucking at them. He whimpered when Barba drew his fingers out of his mouth but when Barba used his fingers to trace Carisi’s swollen lips, Carisi nipped at them and kissed the fingertips. 

It was good, Carisi rolling his hips, Barba’s cock moving inside him, but it wasn’t enough. Barba wanted to have the power, to take control. “Off,” he said, gripping Carisi’s hips to lift him up and off his cock, and Carisi moaned at the loss. 

Barba sat up and pointed. “On all fours,” he commanded, and Carisi grinned once he understood. Barba stroked his back as he hurried to comply. Carisi got on all fours and stuck his ass in the air, wagging his hips and looking over at Barba with burning eyes. Barba couldn’t help but admire the sight of him, so beautiful, the long lines of his body, the pale column of his throat. 

“Are you just gonna sit there all day and stare, or are you gonna get over here and fuck me?” Carisi taunted, getting a hand on himself and stroking his cock as he stuck out his tongue and licked his lips. 

“Don’t let your mouth write a check your ass can’t cash,” Barba said, draping himself over Carisi’s back. 

“Oh I think my ass is pretty capable of— _unh_.” His breath was forced out of him as Barba lined up his cock with Carisi’s wet, hungry hole and drove in deep with one hard thrust. Carisi dropped his head and moaned, losing his grip on himself as he leaned on both hands to keep from falling. He kept moaning as Barba set a punishing pace, driving his cock in harder and faster. 

“So good, feel so good, so good for me, Sonny, so tight, mine, all mine,” Barba muttered into Carisi’s shoulder blade, petting his hips and reaching around to pinch a nipple. “Aren’t you, baby? Aren’t you mine?” 

“Yours, Raf,” Carisi gasped, rocking forward with each of Barba’s pounding thrusts. “All yours, all for you, please, Raf, please, fuck me harder, please, all for you.” 

Because Carisi begged so prettily, Barba redoubled his efforts, stabbing his cock into Carisi with all his strength, breathing so hard he saw stars, getting a grip on Carisi’s waist that he knew would leave bruises. Carisi couldn’t bear up under the onslaught, arms folding under the force of Barba’s thrusts, upper body dropping to the sheets, forehead falling onto the bed. 

_Tight tight tight_ , Barba was lost in the bliss of the hot channel enveloping his cock. Carisi clenched around him and Barba groaned, his voice melding with his lover’s. His hips stuttered, losing his rhythm as he neared orgasm. He reached around to get his hand on Carisi’s cock and started to jerk him, pulling him along toward mutual climax. Carisi started to thrust into Barba’s grip, rocking back and forth, hips jerking, moans becoming mewls and whimpers. 

“Raf, Raf, Raf,” Carisi gasped, desperate and needy, chanting the name like a prayer. “Come inside me, Raf. Fill me up, I want you to fill my ass with your cum, do it, Raf, do it do it do it.” 

God, Barba loved that filthy mouth. Every word was a straight shot to his dick, lighting his body up like a live wire. Well, he could do dirty, too. 

“Yeah, baby, yeah, I got you, I got you, I’ll give you my cum, fill you up with it, baby, fill you up, I got you,” he soothed. 

And Barba came; blinding, glorious, filling Carisi up even as Carisi shot off in his hand. They both cried out, mingling groans, as they moved together in slowing, shallow thrusts. When they were both sated they collapsed onto the mattress and lay panting for a couple of minutes. Barba wiped his cum-covered hand on the sleep pants pooled at the foot of the bed, then stretched out beside Carisi. When their breath evened out they wriggled around until Carisi was lying in Barba’s arms, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw. Barba buried his nose in Carisi’s hair, inhaling his scent and rubbing soothing circles on Carisi’s back. 

After a while, Barba got up and went to the bathroom to wet a washcloth. He brought it back out and cleaned them both up. Then he tossed it into the hamper along with his sleep pants and got back into bed with Carisi. They lay there for a long while, kissing long, deep kisses until the sun stained the sky red and gold and it was time to get up. 

** 

Showered, shaved, coffee made, they stood together in the kitchen, chatting about unimportant things, just taking comfort in each other’s company. 

“Hey, make it over in time for dinner tonight? I’m making Chicken Marsala,” said Carisi, talking around a mouth full of frosted mini-wheats. 

“Sounds good,” Barba replied, “and don’t talk with your mouth full.” 

Carisi swallowed and laughed. “Okay, Mom.” 

Barba smiled slowly and moved in close to Carisi. “Do you do this with your mother?” He tipped his head back and Carisi met him for a deep, open-mouthed kiss, tasting sweet like frosting and milk. Barba slid his knee between Carisi’s legs and Carisi moaned into his mouth. Barba pulled away and Carisi chased after him for a moment before leaning back and narrowing his eyes. 

“You tease,” he said, tracing the curves of Barba’s lips with a finger. Then he turned away and went back to eating his cereal. Barba filled a travel mug with coffee, drinking it black. He filled another travel mug for Carisi, putting in lots of cream and lots of sugar, shaking his head as he did so. Carisi’s sweet tooth was just one endearing quality that warmed Barba’s heart. 

“Ooh, thanks, Raf,” he said, taking the mug and drinking from it. “Mm.” 

Carisi puttered around the kitchen while Barba checked his email on his phone. Eventually time became an issue and they kissed each other goodbye. 

Barba took his coffee mug and went for the door but Carisi held him back, fussing over him. He ran his hands over Barba’s perfectly coifed hair—“Don’t touch the hair,” Barba warned, batting his hands away—then adjusted Barba’s tie even though it was already straight. 

Barba rolled his eyes and pushed Carisi back. “That’s enough, Sonny. Let me go.” 

Carisi gave him a crazy grin. “See you tonight.” He poked a finger into Barba’s chest. “Remember, dinner at seven.” 

Barba couldn’t help but smile back. Carisi was good at making him smile, just another one of the many reasons Barba loved him. He’d never said the words, but he was honest enough with himself to recognize the signs. He hated to go a whole day without seeing Carisi when work kept him away, was always delighted when Carisi found a reason to stop by One Hogan Place, loved just seeing him in the squad room—even though he couldn’t let on in front of the other detectives and Liv. Carisi and he had not disclosed yet, but it was probably long past time they did. 

“See you then,” he said, and was out the door. 

** 

Carisi’s day passed by pretty quickly and, for a wonder, quietly. It was broken up by the text chain he and Barba kept going, Carisi surreptitiously typing with his phone in his lap, under the desk, fooling absolutely no one. He was looking forward to dinner that night with Barba, but was also a little nervous. He planned on telling Barba he loved him for the first time. He hoped Barba would say it back, but even if he didn’t, it was important to Carisi that Barba knew how he felt. 

He cut out at five, with Liv’s permission. Rollins teased him, “Got a hot date with Miss 34B?” 

“Something like that,” Carisi said. 

“What kind of answer is that?” Rollins griped. 

“It’s the only one you’re gonna get,” Carisi said, smiling. He was used to Rollins being a little nosy, which was unfair seeing as how she was hardly an open book. At the same time, she was becoming a good friend, and he hated to lie to her. Despite what she had just said, he was pretty sure she knew he was gay, but he didn’t think she had a clue about his and Barba’s relationship. 

Depending on how that night went, he would talk to Barba about signing disclosure forms. He hated keeping secrets, it just wasn’t a part of his makeup. Maybe it was because he was from a big family, maybe it was because he had three sisters and a mother who confided in him about everything, but he hated to hide such important details about his life from the people he cared about the most. His squad was family, too, even the irascible Fin, who, to be honest, most likely wouldn’t care one way or another about Carisi’s romantic relationship with another man. 

But Amanda would want to know, and Liv definitely would; not just because she was so caring, but because she was his Lieutenant and his relationship with Barba could have a major impact on the cases they were allowed to work together. Disclosure would change a lot, and Barba might not want to risk it, which was another reason Carisi was nervous about what he wanted to say that night over dinner. As much as he loved Barba, his boyfriend was still a mystery to him in some ways. 

He left the precinct and stepped out into the frigid winter air. He wrapped his cashmere scarf—a gift from Barba who had turned up his nose at the slightly ratty knit scarf Carisi had had since college—tighter around his neck and walked briskly toward the subway stop a few blocks away. A car pulled up alongside him and drove slowly, matching his pace. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he felt someone watching him. He stopped walking and the car stopped. He started off down the street and the car began keeping pace with him again. He stopped again and again the car stopped. 

Alarm bells were ringing in his head by now. He peered at the car, a black sedan, unremarkable, and tried to see who was driving but the windows were tinted. He watched it for a minute, waiting to see if it would move on but it just sat there. The feeling of being watched was still an itch on the back of his neck. 

Finally he could stand it no more and approached the car, opening his coat to put his hand on his gun where it was holstered at his side, and to unclip his badge and hold it up. 

“NYPD, step out of the car, please!” But before he could get any closer the car took off, the tires squealing as it peeled out, going much faster than the posted speed limit. Carisi ran after it to take down the license plate number but it was bent in half to keep him from doing just that. 

He sighed, his breath fogging the air, and contemplated what he should do. Should he call Liv? And say what? Now that the car was gone, he was looking at the situation from other angles, second-guessing himself. Could it have been a prank? Somebody just waiting for someone to come out of the precinct and taunt them? Had he imagined the feeling of being watched? Maybe the person in the car had been lost and were driving slowly to look at the numbers on the buildings. 

No, he wouldn’t bother Liv with this. If it happened again he would do something but otherwise, he would just let it go and head home. He didn’t have much time left if he wanted to get dinner on the table by seven, and he had some very important things to discuss with the man he loved. 

** 

The mushrooms were sautéing, the linguine was simmering, and the chicken was browning nicely. Carisi gave a satisfied nod at the makings of the Chicken Marsala and glanced at the clock. 6:30 and he had just received a text from Barba that he was about to leave, so he should arrive in time. He darted around the kitchen in sweatpants and a white tank top, doing about five things at once and perfectly content. When the knock came fifteen minutes later he thought Barba might be early and he answered the door without looking through the peephole. 

“Hey, Raf, why didn’t you just use your key—?” he said, then broke off when, instead of Barba, he saw the three large men standing in the hallway. “Who—” he started, then saw the guns peeking out of their waistbands. 

Adrenaline kicked in so fast it was an instant rush. He tried to slam the door on them but they pushed their way in. The force from the door pushing open into him caused him to slam into the kitchen counter where the glass of scotch he had waiting for Barba fell to the ground and broke, spilling liquor and glass shards all over the floor. Carisi turned and one of his bare feet came down on a large piece of glass, cutting him deeply even as he ran so that he left bloody footprints. 

He went for his gun, knowing he would never make it to his bedroom, couldn’t get to his bedside table where his gun sat before he was caught, but it wasn’t in him to just stand there and let himself be taken down. Even as multiple hands grabbed at him, knocked him face-first to the living room floor, he fought, twisting around and kicking, punching out. He distantly heard himself cursing loudly, in English, Italian and, thanks to Barba, some Spanish. He fought—futilely, he knew—but even when he was quickly subdued, he was glad he hadn’t gone quietly. 

“Shut him the fuck up!” one of the toughs hissed in a Brooklyn accent. 

Another one of them placed a strip of duct tape over Carisi’s mouth and then the one who had spoken punched him, hard, on the chin. 

“You have the right to remain silent, Detective Carisi,” another one said, also in a Brooklyn accent and they all laughed. Okay, so they knew his name. This wasn’t some random home invasion. 

Carisi just glared, still dazed from the blow he had taken, heart pounding with reluctant fear, but defiant to the end. He just hoped—hoped against hope—that Barba didn’t come in before they had finished whatever the hell they intended to do with him. And just what was that, anyway? They knew who he was, yet none of them were familiar to him. All of them white with dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes, and with those Brooklyn accents…He may not know their faces but everything else, including his instincts and experience as a cop, screamed the mob to him. 

His mind raced, full of theories and speculations, none of them good. 

“Our boss sends his regards and requests your presence,” said the one who had hit him, kneeling on Carisi’s chest and knocking the wind out of him. He leaned down and got into Carisi’s face, foul breath and the scent of sandalwood pomade filling Carisi’s nose. “No need to come willingly.” Then, over his shoulder, “Fredo, Nino, go get the crate.” 

The other two got up and went out to the hallway. The man kneeling on Carisi’s chest kept looking over his shoulder and Carisi thought he saw a chance. Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Carisi grabbed his arms, twisted, got a leg up and threw the guy off his chest. He jumped up to his feet as the guy got to his knees and Carisi elbowed him in the nose, which spurted blood. He backed up even as the guy took out a knife and lunged at him. Carisi jumped back in time to avoid getting stabbed, though he couldn’t avoid the slash across his stomach. He clapped a hand to the wound and it came away red. 

Ignoring it for the time being he ran, thinking if he could just get into his bedroom he could lock the door and get to his gun. The unnamed man recovered quickly, though, and was just as fast on his feet. He tackled Carisi from behind just as he was passing through the doorway to the bedroom. Carisi threw out a hand to try to keep his balance and his hand hit the wall, leaving a bloody palm print. 

“Son of a bitch!” yelled the man, throwing his superior weight into it and taking Carisi down again. The unnamed thug hovered over Carisi, wiping away the blood coming out of what Carisi sincerely hoped was a broken nose. In retaliation, he punched Carisi solidly in the nose and Carisi heard the bone crack. Now who had the broken nose? 

The man raised the knife and put it dangerously close to Carisi’s eye. Carisi, who had been struggling, froze. “You like that?” the man said, turning the knife this way and that so the blade flashed. “Our boss said bring you back alive…he didn’t say nothin’ about you having both your eyes. Try that again, and I’ll dig it out, I swear to the Madonna I will.” 

Carisi swallowed through a tight throat and tried desperately not to move, his whole body tense. He didn’t want to lose an eye, his nose was throbbing, and he was aware of a catalog of other injuries, but all he cared about in that moment was the fact that Barba was due any minute. He decided then and there to stop fighting, in the hopes that they would take him and get out of there before Barba showed up. 

The man took the knife away from Carisi’s eye and he sighed and unclenched. The guy left a parting gift, though, as, with a toothy grin , he cut into Carisi’s eyebrow and eyelid. Blood immediately ran into his eye, blinding him, and he turned his head so the blood would run to the side. As he watched, Nino and Fredo came back in from the hallway wheeling a large wooden crate on a dolly. 

“ _Marone a mi_ , what the hell happened to you?” cried Nino as he took in the man’s bloody nose. 

“What the fuck is taking so long? Get in here before somebody sees you!” As they wheeled the crate over, the unnamed man grinned down at Carisi. “Not so feisty now, are you? Worried about that faggot boyfriend of yours coming home, Detective? The lawyer? Want us to get out of here before he gets here?” He leaned in even closer, showing Carisi the knife. “Maybe we should wait, huh? Maybe we should wait until the boyfriend gets home and see if he wants to play too. Whaddya think? Should we?” 

Carisi glared up at him through narrowed eyes, breathing hard and fast. 

“Come on, yes or no, shake your head or nod, should we wait for your boyfriend?” 

Carisi would have killed him with a look if he could have. He took as deep a breath as he could through his nose and then shook his head. 

“Are you gonna come quietly?” 

Carisi continued to glare but nodded. 

“Good. Now hold out your hands.” 

Carisi complied and the tough went and got the duct tape, then came back and taped Carisi’s wrists together. He moved down to Carisi’s feet, pausing to say, “If you kick me, not only will I take your eye, but we’ll wait around for your boyfriend all night if we have to, you got it?” He didn’t wait for Carisi’s acknowledgment before taping Carisi’s ankles together, too. Then he turned to his companions and waved them over. “All right, come on, let’s get this done with.” 

Carisi glanced at the clock over the TV. 6:53, shit! _Please Raf, don’t be early—be late, get held up at work, stuck in traffic, anything!_

Nino and Fredo got the lid off the crate and laid it down. As they came over and got their hands on Carisi’s shoulders and legs, the unnamed thug got in Carisi’s face and said, “Hey, what’s cooking? Smells good! A detective and a cook! Ain’t you talented?” 

Nino and Fredo lifted Carisi and lowered him into the crate, which wasn’t quite big enough so he had to curl into the fetal position to fit. The wood bit into his skin and he got several splinters. He looked up as the lid started to lower and the third tough leaned in with the knife. 

“Remember, be a good little boy and stay quiet. I have no problem coming right back here to wait for your boyfriend, I shit you not. Shake your head or nod, will you be a good boy and stay quiet?” 

Carisi kept glaring through narrowed eyes, wishing for five minutes, just five minutes alone in a fair fight with this guy. But he nodded, glancing at his iWatch to check the time. 6:55. 

“Oops, almost forgot!” said the guy, grabbing ahold of Carisi’s wrist and wrenching the iWatch off. “GPS. Mama didn’t raise no fool.” He dropped it to the ground and Carisi heard the crunch as he stomped on it. 

They lifted the lid and put it down on top of the crate, plunging Carisi into darkness. He heard them pound it into place, heard them grunting as they lifted the crate and put it on the dolly. It left him at an awkward angle, curled up on a slant, still just praying that they got out of there before Barba showed up. 

They started to move him, wheeling him out into the hallway and then down to the elevator. Eventually there was the bell tone of the elevator arriving and he was wheeled into the elevator car. He was only on the third floor. It would be a short ride down, then they would get him into their vehicle and they’d be gone and Barba would be safe. 

“Hold the elevator!” he heard a woman calling. He thought it was Mrs. Hugen, the retired bus driver’s wife from two doors down. Mr. and Mrs. Hugen were both elderly and kind, had brought him a casserole when they heard his grandma had died. Please God they didn’t murder her. 

The man that had cut Carisi kicked the side of the crate and whispered, “Remember, you promised to be a good boy.” 

“Whoops! Almost didn’t make it!” said Mrs. Hugen who joined them just before the elevator doors slid shut. “Good evening, gentlemen.” 

“Evening, ma’am,” one of them said. 

“Moving some furniture?” 

“Yes, ma’am, just helping out a friend.” 

“That’s very kind of you.” The bell dinged and the elevator doors slid open. “Well, good night, gentlemen. And do stay warm.” 

“Thank you, ma’am, you too.” 

They wheeled him out of the elevator and he heard the door to the outside open and shut. 

“Should I go after her?” asked Fredo or Nino, Carisi wasn’t sure which. “The boss said no witnesses.” 

Carisi held his breath while the head tough decided. Blew out an explosive breath that hurt his broken nose when he said, “Nah, she didn’t see anything, and I’m not gonna kill some little old lady if I don’t have to.” 

If either of them had any thoughts on this sudden show of heart, they didn’t voice them out loud. Remembering how easily and skillfully the man had wielded that knife, Carisi didn’t wonder why. 

The door opened and shut again and the change in ambient sounds let Carisi know they were outside. They started wheeling him down the sidewalk, the crate jolting every time they ran over a crack. Eventually they stopped and he heard the metallic thunk of the door of a car—or in this case, most likely a windowless van—opening. They muscled him up into the van, again grunting and cursing as they strained, and got the crate into the vehicle—again throwing him against the inside wall of the box so he was at another awkward angle, slamming his broken nose so that tears jumped into his eyes. 

The unnamed man knocked on the wooden crate and said, “You were a good boy, Detective Carisi. I guess your boyfriend is gonna get out of this in one piece after all. I sure can’t say the same for you.” 

And the door slammed shut. 

** 

Barba had his key ready when he got to Carisi’s apartment but the door was unlocked. “Sonny!” he called. “You left the door—what—?” 

On the gas stove there was a pan filled with burnt mushrooms, a pot full of pasta was boiling over and blackened chicken cooked in another pan half-full of bubbling olive oil. Barba rushed over to turn off the flames and went toward the living room calling for Carisi. His shoe crunched on something before he got there and he looked down to see broken glass and liquid with blood mixed in on the floor. His heart started pounding and he called out again. “Sonny?” 

He rushed further into the apartment and noticed the bloody footprints on the hard wood floor and the state of the living room. The coffee table was pushed up at an angle against the sofa, a floor lamp had been knocked over, a chair was on its side. 

“Sonny!” He ran into the bathroom, into the bedroom, even looked in the closet. Carisi was nowhere to be found. His heart was really pounding now, his breath coming hard and fast. He ran back into the living room, looked around, and noticed the bloody handprint high on the wall. And there, on the floor, was Carisi’s crushed watch. 

Right. Okay. 

He took out his phone and dialed Liv’s number from memory. The phone rang once, twice, three times and he held his breath until she answered. 

“Liv? Are you still at the office? Good. You need to get over to Son—to Carisi’s apartment now.” 

“Rafa, what’s wrong?” Liv said, trying to soothe him. “What’s happened?” 

Barba took a deep breath, tried to calm down, tried to be his usual self, cold, clinical, meticulous. This was too important, he had to do this for the man he loved who was in God knew what kind of trouble. 

“I’m at Carisi’s apartment. The place is a mess and there’s blood everywhere and he’s gone. You need to get over here right now.” 

Liv was suddenly all business. “Have you touched anything?” 

Barba looked around, said, “I touched the knobs on the stove but nothing else, I think.” 

“Okay, get out of there and wait for CSU, I’m going to call them right now. Get out, Rafa, and wait for me.” Before he could say anything to that Liv hung up. 

Barba looked around the room one more time, unable to focus on anything except the blood. “Sonny,” he whispered, and left the apartment. 

** 

Liv beat CSU, arriving with Rollins and Fin in tow. He supposed the secret of his and Carisi’s relationship would come out, but right then he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he wanted was more. More detectives, more cops, more urgency, more people to care about the fact that Sonny was hurt, taken, maybe even… 

No. He wouldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t even think the word. There wasn’t enough blood on the floor to look like someone had bled out. Maybe the blood wasn’t even Carisi’s. But if that was true, then where was he? 

“Rafa,” Liv said. “You left. Good.” 

Rollins came up to him with a tight look , her eyes a little wild and Barba remembered—a little belatedly—that he wasn’t the only one who would be scared for Carisi. “What are we looking at, Counselor?” 

Barba straightened up, swallowed his fears and said in a steady voice, “I’m not sure. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s very good.” 

“Wait here,” Liv said and the three of them rushed inside. 

CSU arrived a few minutes later, along with three unis flashing their red and blues. They rushed past him without giving him a glance. It was maddening, having to stand by, in the freezing cold, while others did the work. What good was an Assistant District Attorney in the face of all this? He couldn’t help Carisi, could only sit on his metaphorical hands and wait. Waiting around and doing nothing was not his strong suit. His insides were churning, but he was determined not to let it show. 

After about half an hour Liv came out looking grim. She came over to Barba and sighed. 

“You’re right, it doesn’t look good.” 

Barba nodded tightly, trying to keep it together, trying to present a brave front. “Okay. What are we thinking?” 

“Well, we’re not thinking home invasion or a robbery. If that’s all it was, then where’s Carisi? No, he was taken. Which means it’s probably personal, so we’re going to have to look close to home.” 

Barba nodded again, unable to think of anything to say. 

“Rafael…What were you even doing here?” 

Barba stared at her without speaking for a long time, clenching and unclenching his jaw, his gaze unwavering and unashamed. 

”Oh. Okay. Well how long has that been going on?” 

Barba tried to look her in the eye but he couldn’t, his bold front crumbling. He looked down and sighed. 

“A few months. Four or five. Sonny probably knows exactly. But to tell you the truth, it’s been building up for a while. A lot of late nights in my office with him working for me on trial prep or me helping him study…drinks and dinners afterwards…He wore me down. There was really no way around it; it was inevitable,” he said and couldn’t help but smile. But the smile faded fast and he looked up at Liv pleadingly. 

“Liv, you _have_ to find him. I—I—I love him.” It was hard to get out, and he only hoped he could say it to Carisi…soon. If only he had said it earlier. 

“You _love_ him? Wow, so, this is serious, then?” Barba knew Liv was trying not to let her surprise show, but it was getting away from her. 

“It is for me, anyway. I hope it is for Sonny, too. And I’d really like the chance to find that out, so maybe you could stop interrogating me and go find my goddamn boyfriend!” It would have been more forceful if his voice hadn’t wobbled with unshed tears. 

Liv was just as sympathetic in the face of his outburst as he had known she would be. She put a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ll find him, Rafa. We won’t rest until we do.” 

And Barba wouldn’t get any rest until they did, either. As he stood there, shivering in his body and soul, it started to snow. 

**


	2. Sweet Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty violent.

As Carisi was lifted out of the crate he flexed his limbs as much as he could in his restraints, arms and legs cramped and sore from being trapped in the enclosed space for so long. He was dumped on the floor and looked around to assess his surroundings. Cold concrete floors and walls, no windows and in the corner, wooden stairs leading up…he was in a basement, but he had no idea where. He heard a click and froze, turned slowly to see the unnamed tough guy aiming a .45 at his head. 

“We’re gonna take off the tape. You gonna keep being a good boy?” He stripped the duct tape from off Carisi’s mouth in one quick pull that stung. “It’s okay, you can talk. Hell, you can even scream. No one will hear you and anyone who did wouldn’t care.” 

Carisi glared and spat at the man. “Fuck you.” 

The tough wiped the spit off his cheek and laughed. Then he kicked Carisi in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. While he struggled to breathe, the man kicked him again, this time in the chest. Then again. And again. 

When Carisi was finally able to draw breath, he felt sharp pain and knew he had at least a few cracked or broken ribs. He tried to breathe shallowly but it didn’t really help. The thug kicked him one more time. 

Distantly he heard one of the other two saying, “You better stop, you’re gonna kill him.” 

The man got in Carisi’s face and said, “Be a good boy.” Then he cold-cocked Carisi with the .45 and he was out. 

** 

Carisi woke, dazed, chest hurting and head aching where he’d been struck by the gun. He had to push past the pain enough to take in his situation. He was sitting in a chair and he was cold. Why was he so--? Shit, he was stripped down to his briefs and it was cold enough that he was shivering. He tried to move but found that his wrists were strapped down to the arms of a wooden chair with duct tape, and his ankles were strapped to the legs. He tested his bonds, knowing it was useless. He lifted his head, causing it to throb and his vision to swim, and looked around, blinking his eyes to make them focus. 

“Back in the land of the living, Detective Carisi?” 

Carisi blinked again and looked at the man who was speaking. Dark hair, dark eyes, Brooklyn accent, like the three guys who had taken him from his apartment…though he wasn’t as big, and he was dressed better. The guy sitting in the chair in front of him was leaner and wore a very elegant designer suit and a tie made of Italian silk—a fact Carisi only recognized because of Barba. Carisi didn’t know the man. 

“I guess you’re the ‘Boss’ I’ve heard so much about.” Even the sound of his own voice increased the throbbing in his head. 

“Oh, you don’t recognize me? Not very observant for a Detective. I was there every day of the trial, just like you. I was there when your testimony helped put my brother away. No?” 

Carisi searched his brain for another moment before it came to him. “Oh yeah, Tony Caputo. Alonzo’s brother. I should have seen the resemblance.” 

Tony clapped and smiled. “Well, done, Detective. Well done indeed.” 

“What’s the matter? Alonzo having trouble coping with life plus twenty? Told you to look me up?” He tried to keep up the bravado and not let it show how much pain he was in—or how afraid he was. 

Tony leaned forward with his hands on his knees, narrowed his eyes and, in a deathly quiet voice, said, “Alonzo died in a prison riot five days ago.” 

Carisi just stared, klaxons going off in his mind. 

“What, no clever comeback?” asked Tony, standing and getting in Carisi’s face. “Got nothing to say?” 

“I hadn’t heard.” 

“Yeah. Didn’t think you had. Leo? Bring the table please.” 

The third thug, now finally named, came over pushing a table on wheels. Carisi looked at the items strewn across the table and gulped. A crowbar, a stun gun, a scalpel, bolt cutters, a blow torch and a nail gun. 

“See, Detective, you arrested my brother. And your testimony put him in jail. The way I see it, you killed my brother same as if you were the one holding the shiv. And I just can’t let that go. You understand.” 

“Of course,” Carisi said faintly, heart pounding so loud in his ears that he could barely hear himself speak. His headache and injured ribs faded into the background as he stared at the table and its lineup of deadly instruments. 

“Leo, set the camera up for me please?” 

“You got it, Boss.” Leo came over with a tripod, opening it up and fastening a video camera to it, adjusting it to make sure that it was at just the right angle. 

“For posterity,” Tony said, smiling and winking at Carisi. 

“Family heirloom,” said Carisi, his voice barely a whisper. He was trying to maintain at least the illusion of defiance, or at the very least, cheek. He tried to promise himself that he wouldn’t beg, no matter what they did to him…but looking at the sick grin on Tony’s face, the unwholesome gleam in his eyes, Carisi thought he was most likely making himself a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. 

“Let’s start small, shall we? Leo? Would you give the good detective here a little taste of what’s to come?” 

“Sure thing, Boss,” he said, hitting an open palm with his fist. 

Carisi took a deep breath and waited for Leo’s fists to start flying. And fly they did. Into his eyes, his already broken nose, his mouth…He endured the beating. What else could he do? Pain bloomed all over his face, and he endured it, grunting with every strike. The sound of skin on skin filled his ears, comingled with his pained cries. 

He wasn’t sure how long the beating went on…seemed like forever. But he could hack it, he had it covered. He’d been beaten up before. The name Bobby Bianchi came to mind. Never this bad, though. Never like this. After a while it all became a blur—one long, agonizing blur. 

Eventually Leo stopped and held up his hand to show off bloody knuckles. “Boss, my hand hurts.” 

“That’s okay, Leo. I think the good detective gets the idea. Why don’t you rest, and I’ll handle this next part.” 

Carisi’s chin dropped to his chest and he struggled to catch his breath, each quick, shallow inhalation sending sharp, shooting pain through his chest from his injured ribs. Tony waited while Carisi’s breathing evened out, waited until he lifted his head up and faced him. 

“How are we doing, Detective?” Tony asked. “We doing all right?” 

Carisi spat out a mouthful of blood but didn’t speak. Tony didn’t seem to need him to, he just laughed and went over to the table with its selection of painful implements. This was where shit got real. 

“Would you like to choose, Detective?” Tony asked, a hand hovering over the tray. “No? Let’s see…Eenie meenie minie mo…” His hand came down on the bolt cutters and he picked them up and waved them in Carisi’s face. “Hmm. What fun can we have with these?” 

Tony approached Carisi slowly, working the handles, opening and closing the blades of the bolt cutter so the metallic sound of them scraping together made a rhythmic _shink_ noise. Open, closed. _Shink shink_. Carisi couldn’t help but wince at the sound. 

Tony brought the bolt cutters down and closed the blades around one of Carisi’s fingers, but Carisi made a fist. Tony laughed and pulled back. As he switched sides Carisi made a fist of his other hand as well. Tony laughed again and just tapped Carisi on the back of the hand with the bolt cutters. Then he knelt down at Carisi's feet. 

“Let’s have a look at these little piggies. How does it go? This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, this little piggy…what about this little piggy, Leo?” 

“This little piggy had roast beef, Boss.” Leo smirked at Carisi, wrapping his bloody knuckles with a handkerchief. 

“Ah yes! Forgive me, Detective, I never had children. My brother did, though. Now they’ve lost their father, and you’re going to lose one of your little piggies.” 

Carisi could do nothing but wait and try not to give in to panic as Tony tapped his next toe and said, “This little piggy got to go free. But this last little piggy got left behind.” And he opened the blades of the bolt cutter, framed them around Carisi’s right pinkie toe and then brought them together in one vicious, metallic _shink_. 

Carisi had never felt pain such as this. He couldn’t hold in the scream that seemed to come up directly through him from his wounded foot. He didn’t want to look but couldn’t help it as he sneaked a peek and saw his right foot, now missing a toe and pumping out red blood on the gray concrete floor. Carisi felt nauseous. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” said Tony, grinning and reveling in Carisi’s cries. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.” 

Carisi had to find some way to counteract the pain and he closed his eyes and tried to escape into memories of his morning with Barba; not just their lovemaking, but the comfortable way they fit into each other’s routines. He thought of Barba’s jewel-green eyes and his brown hair that shone with auburn highlights in the sun. Thought of Barba’s strong tan hands entwined with his. His quick, labored breaths evened out as he was able to push the pain away and he opened his eyes and glared into Tony’s. 

Tony looked taken aback by Carisi’s growing calm. “That’s okay,” he said, gathering himself. “I don’t expect you to break yet. I’d be disappointed if you did. But you will. I will break you before I kill you.” And he dipped his fingers in Carisi’s blood on the floor and gripped him by the chin. Tony leaned in close and hissed, “I will make you _beg_ me to kill you.” 

Carisi spit out more blood and managed to say, “Not gonna happen.” 

Tony turned away and put down the dripping bolt cutters. He picked up the crowbar and turned back to Carisi. “We’ll see, Detective. We’ll see.” 

** 

Liv told Barba to go home and wait. Again, waiting was not his strong suit but he complied, if only to keep the squad from seeing him break down. He had a reputation to maintain, after all. He was supposed to be a cold, heartless bastard, not a man falling apart thinking about his missing boyfriend—even if that’s exactly what he was. 

When he entered his apartment, he took off his coat and dropped it on the floor instead of hanging it up. He kicked off his shoes so they went flying, loosened his tie and threw it on the floor along with his suit jacket and waistcoat. He was usually very neat, almost to the point of obsession; Carisi teased him about it. That he didn’t immediately hang up his discarded clothing on hangers in his color-coded closet was a sign of true distress. 

He flopped down on his (expensive) leather couch and sat there…for about ten seconds. Then he jumped up and started pacing. Blood on the floor. Blood on the wall. Blood on the floor. Blood on the wall. 

Blood everywhere. 

Blood and liquor and smoke and broken glass and a wrecked room and bloody footprints and a bloody palm print and no Carisi. 

If Barba had been with Carisi, what would have happened to him? Would he be hurt? Dead? Taken with Carisi to only God knew where? Barba wasn’t sure which option he preferred. With Carisi wherever he was sounded good. Better yet, home with Barba, in his arms, safe and unharmed. 

He tried to distract himself, going into the kitchen to make coffee. It was late, but he didn’t want to go to sleep and a shot of caffeine sounded good. He turned on the machine and stood staring at nothing. Tried not to think of Carisi in danger and in pain. Thought instead of how their relationship came to be. 

At first it was just fucking. Crude, of course, Barba didn’t like to curse, he found it uncouth, but that’s all there really was between them: fucking. He’d told Liv they had been together four or five months, but that’s only officially—romantically. Before that, it was casual sex in Barba’s office; Barba would text, and Carisi would come. And Barba would fuck him all over every surface in his office. Carisi naked and bent over Barba’s desk while Barba fucked him, both of them liking the power play of Carisi nude, Barba with his clothes on and his cock out through his open zipper. Playing a little submissive to Barba’s kind-of dominance certainly got Carisi off, and Barba delighted in pleasing him, even then. 

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, just after they’d both finished and were coming down together—both of them panting while Barba placed kisses and licked at the sweat sheening Carisi’s back—Barba said, “Let me take you out for dinner tonight.” 

Carisi waited until he could catch his breath, then said, “Barba, are you asking me out while you’re still ball’s deep in my ass?” 

Barba was silent for a moment, then laughed. “I guess so, yes.” He slid out and Carisi turned around to face him with a surprised, happy grin. 

“Well then, in that case, yes, Counselor, I’ll go out to dinner with you.” 

Barba leaned down and kissed Carisi, open-mouthed and deep, licking into his mouth and stroking Carisi’s tongue with his. He reached up and caressed Carisi’s cheeks, slid his hands back to tangle in Carisi’s hair—more tender than he’d ever been, but it felt right. Carisi put his arms around Barba and drew him close, moaning a little. It was a small yet perfect moment that would lead to even more. 

The coffee machine gurgled, drawing Barba out of his memories. He poured himself a cup, then got Carisi’s Half-and-Half out of the refrigerator, the sugar bowl out of the cabinet, and fixed his coffee sweet and creamy the way Carisi liked it. He did it without even thinking about it, didn’t notice until he took a sip. He shuddered a little at the cloying taste, but he took it to the kitchen table and sat down, kept drinking. Carisi’s coffee…Carisi’s blood. Barba sat there for a long time, he didn’t know long—long enough for the coffee to go cold by the time he took another sip. 

This was absurd. He couldn’t be alone with his thoughts anymore. He dumped the coffee down the sink and went to his room to change into a clean suit. This time he put his discarded clothes in the hamper, but that was only because it was right there, otherwise he wouldn’t have made the effort. He felt a little ridiculous putting on another suit, but again, he had a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t look like he was falling apart. At least not on the outside. 

He shaved, too, put on aftershave, reveled in the sting. Then he ordered an Uber, picked his coat up off the floor, put it on and went outside to wait in the snow. It didn’t matter what Liv said, he was going in to the precinct and there was no stopping him. 

** 

Carisi stared at the crowbar in Tony’s hands. Tony came in close, held the curved end of the crowbar under Carisi’s chin and pushed up hard so Carisi’s head bent back and back until his neck was hyper-extended. Tony held the crowbar there with one hand while with the other he reached for the scalpel. Carisi sucked in a breath and tried not to move as Tony placed the blade of the scalpel to his throat. 

“I could do it so easily,” Tony said, putting more pressure on the blade until it nicked Carisi—he could feel the blood running down his neck. “It would be so easy.” 

“You’re not gonna do it,” Carisi said, voice strained. 

“You know that for a fact?” 

“Yeah, I do,” he said, struggling to suck in a breath. “Kill me now, and you won’t get to have your fun with me.” 

Tony stared into Carisi’s eyes for a long moment, then grinned and took the scalpel and crowbar away. “You’re right, of course. I just wanted to remind you that your worthless life is in my hands.” 

Like he could forget. He could only stare and shiver as Tony put both hands on the crowbar and tightened his grip so he was holding it like a baseball bat. He made some practice swings, then put it against Carisi’s right knee. He held it up over his head, then swung it down toward the knee, stopping at the last second just before impact. Then he did it again, coming close to Carisi’s knee but never touching it. He wanted Carisi to anticipate the coming blow, wanted his heart pounding and his breathing to speed up. 

And he did. And they were. 

Carisi tried to move his leg, but of course he couldn’t, not with his ankles strapped so tightly to the chair legs. Tony lifted the crowbar over his head again, grinned, and brought it down with all his strength into Carisi’s knee. 

Oh God, please, save him from this pain, it was too much, too much, oh Jesus, too much. Was he being punished? What could he have possibly done to merit this? He had always believed in a loving god, but he wondered if maybe he had been wrong. 

Tony held the straight end of the crowbar up to his mouth like a microphone and started singing. “Sweet music, sweet music, why does my heart skip a beat? Pretty music, what makes the soul come out of me? Pretty music, somebody’s really gotta tell me. Pretty music, what makes this music sound so sweet?” He danced as he sang, shouting the lyrics to be heard over Carisi’s screams and sobs. 

“That’s a song by the Yardbirds, in case you didn’t know,” Tony said. “I’m a fan of classic rock.” 

Carisi didn’t really hear him, his words not registering through the hot waves of unending pain. Carisi’s knee was already starting to swell and his kneecap was out of place. He had to concentrate to suck in breaths through clenched teeth. He tried to stifle his screams, not wanting to give Tony further satisfaction, but God, it was hard. Think of comforting things, home, family, friends, colleagues…Barba, think of Barba. 

After a long while he was able to curb his screams, but that was about it. He still had to fight for every breath, he still shuddered from the pain, tears streaming from his eyes and down his cheeks. 

“Feeling better already?” Tony asked gleefully, getting in Carisi’s face again. 

“Fuck you, you son of a bitch.” Carisi tried to growl the words but instead they came out watery and choked. 

Tony laughed. “Very eloquent, Detective. Beautifully worded. Your law school education at work, no doubt. You would have been a real asset to your clients in the courtroom. It’s really too bad you’ll never get to practice.” 

Carisi swallowed, took a breath, took another. “Actually,” he said, had to stop and try again. “Actually, I never intended to go into private practice. I’ve always had my sights set on a position in the DA’s office.” Sheer bravado, but Carisi wasn’t ready to break. Not yet. 

Tony scowled at Carisi, clenched his fists, paced away and back. Then he smirked, got that sick gleam in his eye again and Carisi thought maybe it would be better if he kept his mouth shut from now on. Tony turned away, came back around with the stun gun. 

“Why don’t we see what kind of fun we can have with this, huh? I’m told that the pain of an extended shock from a stun gun is extremely intense. Agonizing, even. Incapacitating, obviously, that’s the whole point—that’s what it’s made for. But for me, the point is pain. _Your_ pain, Detective.” He held up the gun and pressed the switch so for a second blue sparks shot out of the metal prongs like lightning. 

“Now, the optimal places to strike are the parts of the body rich with nerves. The neck, for example,” he said in a lecturing tone, and pressed the prongs of the gun to Carisi’s neck. He turned on the gun for a second and gave Carisi a quick zap. Carisi cried out at the sudden jolt of pain as his muscles spasmed. “Or the shoulder.” Another jolt, this time lasting for a few seconds. “Or the groin.” Tony pressed the prongs of the gun into Carisi’s crotch and turned the gun on for ten seconds—Carisi counted every one. His teeth clenched, his body seized up, he couldn’t stop the shuddering groan that came up from his spasming diaphragm. 

Tony turned the stun gun off. “Does it hurt as much as they say? Really, I want to know. What’s it like?” 

Carisi’s head lolled forward as he panted and trembled. 

“No answer? How about now?” He turned the gun on again for another ten seconds. Again, Carisi’s muscles seized up, his lips drawing back from his clenched teeth. His whole body shook as electricity shot through his body. 

“Now? Anything to say?” Tony was shouting, spittle flecking his lips, eyes wild. 

Carisi could only draw shallow, painful breaths, couldn’t even fill his lungs before Tony turned the gun on again. This time Carisi lost count of how long it went on, his whole body a live wire. He felt his bladder vacate, couldn’t even care. His vision tunneled, he heard a dull roar, even the pain became distant and then darkness took him. 

** 

When Barba walked into the squad room, Liv and Chief Dodds were standing just inside her office, and they were arguing. Barba stopped at Carisi’s desk and stared at the empty chair. His laptop was gone, sent to TARU, his desk clear of everything except framed photographs. Barba listened in on the argument while looking at the photos to see who had earned a place. 

Dodds was griping about the squad being too close to the case to get perspective and Liv telling him in no uncertain terms that her team _would_ handle the case, would _not_ hand it over to Missing Persons, and he could either accept that or fire her. 

Barba kept his peace but inwardly crowed as Dodds conceded and left the squad room. Before turning to Liv Barba picked up one of the photos; it was a picture of him and Carisi. The whole team was surrounding them, it could easily be dismissed as a photo of the squad, but Barba and Carisi were at the center of the group, leaning into one another, looking at each other askance. Yes, it was definitely a picture of Barba and Carisi. Once they disclosed Carisi could openly put out a photo of just the two of them if he wanted. After they found Carisi…After they found him _alive_. 

“Barba,” Benson said, coming over to him. Stopped. She was his friend, and he knew his outwardly polished appearance didn’t fool her. He was aiming for cool and dispassionate, but she saw the panic and pain lurking not far under the surface. He decided to stop putting up a front with her. “Rafael—” 

“Liv,” he hurried to cut her off, knowing what she was going to say. He lowered his voice and pleaded with her, “Please don’t tell me to go home. I can’t sit alone in my empty apartment worrying and waiting and making myself sick. Dios mi, let me stay, please, Liv, por favor.” His roots were showing; he usually tried to avoid speaking Spanish at work, preferring to hide his ethnicity from anyone who might see that trait as a mark against him. But right then he didn’t care if he sounded like a poor Cuban boy from the Bronx, didn’t care that he was begging. He would do anything to keep from having to be alone. 

Liv couldn’t hold up in the face of his desperation. She put her hand on his shoulder and nodded. “All right, Rafa.” 

He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and drew himself up to his full height, pulling himself back together. 

“So. Do you have anything yet?” 

Liv nodded but didn’t answer right away. 

“It’s okay, Liv, don’t feel like you have to spare me the details here. Just act like this is any other case and you’re keeping me in the loop.” 

“Well, the lab confirms that the blood found in Carisi’s apartment is his.” 

Barba nodded tightly. “Well, we suspected as much. Anything else?” For the first time he looked around the squad room and realized none of the detectives were at their desks. “Where is everybody?” 

“Well, we’ve got unis out canvassing, and Fin is on his way in with a potential witness.” 

Barba jumped on that. “Someone saw Sonny—” he hurried to correct himself, “—Carisi get taken? Why didn’t they call 911?” 

“Relax, Rafa,” Liv soothed. “The witness is a neighbor of Carisi’s and all she saw was some strange men in the elevator. She didn’t even suspect them of anything until she was told Carisi was missing.” 

“Right. Right, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” 

“It’s okay,” she said, giving him the same look of sympathy she gave to victims and survivors. “We’re also trying to put together a timeline through surveillance footage, track Carisi’s movements after he left the precinct last night. Rollins is working on that.” She led him into the side area with the monitors on the wall and the whiteboard where they hung pertinent case information. Rollins was working on her laptop, skimming through footage. 

“Rollins, how’s it coming?” Liv asked. 

“I think I have something,” Rollins said, looking up. “Counselor,” she said, nodding at Barba, giving him a similar look of sympathy and he barely held back a sigh. He supposed he should have expected this. Fin and Rollins both knew Barba was at Carisi’s apartment and they _were_ detectives after all. By the time all this was over, Barba and Carisi wouldn’t have to disclose; everyone would already have figured out they were together. 

“What do you have, Detective?” Barba said, cutting across her sympathy and getting to the point. 

“I got this,” Rollins pointed a remote at the big monitor on the wall and black and white footage came up on the screen, “off of the cameras outside the precinct. There’s Carisi leaving the building.” She pointed. “And there…is the car that followed him.” Sure enough the surveillance footage showed Carisi being tracked by a dark-colored sedan. They watched as the car kept pace with Carisi, stopping and starting as he did, until finally he pulled out his badge and approached the car which sped away and disappeared from view 

“He didn’t tell you this happened?” Barba asked, rounding on Liv. 

“Don’t you think I would have mentioned it by now if he had?” Liv said, her frustration coloring her voice. “Damn it, Carisi, what were you thinking?” 

“He wasn’t, obviously,” Rollins said, sounding annoyed. He brow was furrowed, he face pinched. Rollins and Carisi were friends, Barba knew. She was suffering too. 

“Excuse me, we’re looking for Lieutenant Benson?” 

They all turned to see a diffident-looking couple in their sixties standing behind them. 

“Yes?” 

The man spoke up. “I’m Dominick Carisi and this is my wife, Donna. We’re Sonny’s parents.” 

“Oh! Mr. and Mrs. Carisi, hello.” Liv went over to them and shook both their hands. “I’m Olivia Benson. It’s good to meet you, I’m just sorry it has to be under these circumstances.” 

“Yes, it’s good to meet you, too, Lieutenant,” said Donna. “Sonny speaks very highly of you. He admires you very much.” 

Barba hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Carisi, I’m Rafael Barba.” 

Their eyes lit up with recognition. “Mr. Barba, yes!” Dominick shook Barba’s hand. “Sonny has mentioned you many times. He says you’ve been very kind to him, teaching him so much. He says he never would have passed his criminal law course without you.” 

Barba deflected, although Dominick’s words touched him. “Well, Carisi perhaps gives me too much credit and himself not enough.” 

“He’s always been like that,” Donna said, giving a sad smile. “Never knowing his own worth.” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Carisi,” said Liv, “I told you on the phone there was no need to come in.” 

“We know that. We just—” Donna’s voice broke and she drew in a shivering breath. 

“Come with me,” Liv said, leading them into her office and sitting behind her desk. “Please, have a seat.” 

They took seats across from her while Barba hovered in the doorway, hoping no one would ask him to leave. 

“We’re sorry,” said Donna, “we know we’re in the way here.” 

“No, not at all,” said Liv. “It’s just that I don’t really have anything to tell you that I didn’t say when we spoke on the phone.” 

“You said you thought this was personal. That whoever took him knew him. What makes you think that?” asked Dominick. 

“Well, the fact that they did take him speaks to that. If this were a case of, say, a home invasion, there would be no reason not to leave your son behind. Also, it seems now that someone was following him last night after he left the precinct.” 

“Oh my,” Donna said, her hand going to her mouth. 

“You know that because of security cameras, right?” said Dominick. “I saw the monitors when we came in.” 

“Yes, that’s right,” Liv said. 

“Lieutenant Benson,” Donna said, leaning forward and looking determined. “What we really want to know is that you’re going to do everything and anything you can to find our son. That you won’t rest until you do.” 

Liv nodded and leaned forward as well. “I can promise you that, Mrs. Carisi. I promise you both. My squad is like family to me, and I take my responsibility for them very seriously.” 

“Well, thank you, Lieutenant,” said Dominick as Donna wiped a tear away and Liv offered her a tissue. “That’s all we wanted to hear.” They both stood and Liv offered to walk them out. 

“Mr. Barba, it was very nice to meet you,” said Donna as they passed him. 

“Yes it was—thank you, I mean, you too,” Barba floundered; there was so much he wanted to say to Carisi’s parents but he was certain that it was not the right time for him to unload all that personal information on them. 

As they left Barba walked into Liv’s office and sat on her couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and sat like that for a minute, then he gave in and put his face in his hands. 

Liv found him like that a short time later. Barba heard her close the door and then she sat next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. That was all it took; Barba started to shake, and he had to concentrate on his breathing to keep it coming in and out evenly. 

“Oh, Rafa,” she said. 

Yeah.


	3. Waking Dreams

Barba woke slowly from a wonderful dream about Carisi and him having a picnic in Central Park. For a moment he didn’t know or recognize where he was. Gradually it came to him that he was curled up on the couch in Liv’s office. Someone—Liv, most likely—had draped his jacket over him as a makeshift blanket. He sat up, smoothed out the wrinkles in his dress shirt and put the jacket on. He realized the lights were off but it wasn’t dark, and, looking at his watch, saw that it was past eight in the morning. 

Coffee. He needed coffee. He left Liv’s office and headed for the break room. He stopped as he passed the evidence board. An 8 x 10 photo of Carisi’s smiling face was pinned to the board, labeled with his name, and under that the word “Missing.” Beside that was a few pictures of Carisi’s wrecked apartment…the crime scene. One of them was a photo of Carisi’s bloody palm print high up on the living room wall. 

Barba looked quickly away to the picture beside that one, a still from the footage of Carisi being followed outside the precinct. As he was silently cursing his reckless boyfriend for not telling anyone about the incident, Liv came up beside him and pinned a new photo to the case board. It was another grainy still; three men and a crate on a dolly, a time stamp in the lower right-hand corner: 7:05. 

“What’s this?” 

“Security cam footage from outside a bodega. Our witness confirmed that these are the men she met in the elevator. We think…” She checked on Barba, gauging whether he could handle the coming information. “We think Carisi was in that crate.” 

Barba stared at the photo, had the urge to touch it, to let his fingertips linger over the crate as a way to be close to Carisi. Shoved into a box and wheeled, bleeding, out of his apartment. Most people would kick and scream and make noise, but not Carisi. He would be too concerned about what might happen to anyone who heard and approached the violent men taking him away. 

“What is it she thought they were doing wheeling a crate out of a building at 7:00 at night?” 

“They told her they were moving furniture for a friend.” 

Barba pursed his lips and chose to hold his tongue about that. “Okay, what else?” 

Liv pointed to the table where Rollins was still sitting with a laptop and an iPad in front of her. “Amanda’s tracking Carisi’s movements over the last week. It would appear he was followed on more than one occasion.” 

Barba’s eyes widened and for a moment he lost his cool. “What?!” 

Liv considered him carefully, then nodded. “Amanda? Show him.” 

Rollins looked up from the laptop open in front of her and turned to point the remote at the large monitor on the wall. She flipped through multiple stills of Carisi walking down the sidewalk with the same dark-colored sedan in the background. The license plate was obscured in every shot. 

“Who would even want to do this?” Barba asked, moving closer to the monitor. 

“Well,” Liv said, “Fin is going through all the cases Carisi worked on since he came over to SVU, and we’re waiting on his ex-partner to come in so we can ask him some questions about Carisi’s time with Homicide.” 

Barba looked over to Fin’s desk and saw the detective surrounded by files and folders. “Find anything yet, Detective Tutuola?” He tried not to sound too desperate, but Fin saw right through him. 

“Sorry, Counselor,” said Fin, and there was another SVU detective giving him the same look of sympathy they gave victims. “Nothing yet.” 

Barba took a deep breath and decided to meet this head on. 

“All right, so, obviously you all have figured out the nature of the relationship between Carisi and I.” 

“Well,” said Fin, “you _were_ over at his apartment at 7:00 in the evening. The table was set for two and dinner was on the stove…it doesn’t take a rocket scientist, is all I’m saying.” 

Barba pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right, well I guess there’s nothing to be done for it now.” 

“You ashamed, Counselor?” Rollins challenged, eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t want anyone to know you’re slumming it with a cop?” 

Fin leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “That it, Barba?” 

Barba sighed and looked to the heavens for strength. “Of course not. But it’s relatively new between us and we haven’t even remotely discussed disclosure. I just feel that it’s a topic on which Carisi should have some input, don’t you?” 

“All right,” said Liv, stepping in. “Guys? This isn’t the time, okay?” 

“Sorry, Liv,” said Fin. “Counselor.” 

“Yeah,” Rollins said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s been a long night.” 

Barba nodded. “For all of us.” 

“Lieutenant?” 

Liv turned to face the man in an ill-fitting suit coming up behind her. “Yes, Bennett?” 

He handed her a sheet of paper, then left without another word. 

“What’s that?” Barba asked, coming over to stand beside her. 

“It’s the composite Bennett put together with Fin’s witness.” She pinned it to the board. It showed a dark-haired man with broad features and slicked-back hair. “One of our suspects.” 

“Only one out of three?” 

Rollins chimed in, “She only spoke to one of them, and only briefly. Besides that, she’s 85 years old—” 

“—And still sharp as a tack!” 

An elderly woman walked over to them. She wore a floral-print dress trimmed in lace and a hat decorated with a vaguely cross-eyed stuffed bird. 

Liv made the introductions. “Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba, this is Mrs. Hugen, our witness.” 

“Ma’am.” 

“Mrs. Hugen, I apologize,” said Rollins, “I didn’t mean—” 

“Oh, tish-tosh, dear, I’m hard to offend and I don’t hold grudges. I just came over here because I thought of something I forget to tell you when we talked earlier.” 

“And what’s that?” 

“The man I talked to in the elevator, the one you think took Sonny? He had a Brooklyn accent. Is that at all helpful?” 

“It might be,” said Liv. “Thank you very much.” 

“Oh you’re welcome. I do hope you find Sonny. He’s such a nice boy, always carrying my groceries, and helping with chores around the apartment. Do you know, he even fixed the kitchen sink last month? Mr. Hugen and I didn’t even have to call a plumber.” 

Barba was inexplicably touched by the thought of Carisi helping out his elderly neighbors. As Liv arranged to have a uni drive Mrs. Hugen home, he wandered back over to the case board. Carisi was so kind, so caring. Barba loved him so damn much—if only he had told him that. 

“God, give me the chance to tell him soon,” Barba prayed to a God he hadn’t believed in since he was a child. 

“What was that, Counselor?” Rollins asked as she came up beside him. 

He took a not-so-subtle swipe at his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about, Detective.” 

Again, Carisi’s smiling photograph drew Barba’s attention. “Missing.” Better than “Deceased,” anyway. 

“Look, I’m sorry again for what I said. I’m just—” 

Barba hurried to cut her off. “Please, Detective, I—just, please. There’s no need.” 

Rollins was silent, then, and Barba looked over to see her staring at Carisi’s photo, too. 

“We’ll find him, Barba,” Rollins said quietly. 

Barba swallowed through a tight throat, took a deep breath and nodded. “I know you will.” He looked back at her, saw the fear in her eyes and roused himself to say something comforting. “In fact, I have complete confidence. Your track record speaks for itself.” 

Inwardly, Barba winced. It wasn’t good enough, but perhaps it was the best he could do. 

** 

Carisi woke with a jolt as cold water was poured over him. He spluttered and spit and immediately started shivering. He tried to lift his head, look through the hair hanging in his eyes, but couldn’t. Everything hurt, his whole body. Every muscle ached from the stun gun and his throat hurt from screaming. He took stock of some of his injuries. The stump of his toe had stopped bleeding and the pain had receded to a dull throb. His knee was another story, though. It hurt like a mother and was a worrisome red and purple. It had also swelled up to the size of a football. It was hot and kept jerking strangely. Christ, he was going to be crippled from this, he just knew it. 

“Detective?” said Tony, putting aside a bucket. He worked his fingers into Carisi’s hair and yanked his head back, getting in his face. “You back with me?” 

Carisi narrowed his eyes and in a gravelly voice, said, “Looks like it.” 

“Oh good. I have something for you.” He released his grip and Carisi had to struggle for a second to keep his head up. “Thirsty?” He held up an open bottle of whiskey. 

“No, thanks,” Carisi said. He was, in fact, very thirsty, his mouth dry and pasty, but alcohol was only going to make it worse. 

“I’m afraid I insist,” Tony said, and he grabbed Carisi’s chin, tight, forcing his mouth open. Carisi clenched his teeth and the glass rim of the bottle clinked against them but he could not stop the flow of whiskey rushing into his mouth. He choked and had to swallow. 

“That’s it, drink it down. Isn’t that better?” Finally Tony pulled the bottle away and let go of Carisi’s chin. Carisi coughed and fought down a rising rush of bile. He was nauseous, probably from swallowing blood when Leo was beating him. He looked up, all around the basement, but didn’t see the man. Tony noticed and said, “Leo’s not here. It’s just you and me, Detective. I thought we could have a little personal time, one on one. Maybe have a little chat.” 

Carisi cleared his throat, winced when it hurt. “Okay, Caputo. What do you want to talk about?” 

Tony pulled up a chair and sat opposite Carisi. “How about that ADA boyfriend of yours?” 

Carisi’s voice was ice cold. “Off-limits.” 

Tony smirked. “We’ll talk about what _I_ want to talk about. So, is it love?” 

Carisi didn’t answer. 

Tony didn’t stop smirking. “Maybe I should ask him.” 

Carisi forgot about his bonds for a second and tried to get up. “Stay away from him!” 

“Too late.” Tony took out a cell phone from his pocket and held it up for Carisi to see. 

A video played, dark and grainy, but Carisi soon recognized Barba outside what looked like Carisi’s apartment building. He was talking to Liv and there were black and whites with their lights flashing and CSU coming in and out of the building. 

“Is this—” 

“Last night,” Tony confirmed. 

In the video, Barba turned around, and the camera zoomed in to focus on his face. The fear in his eyes was clear. He pulled his coat tight around himself, shivering, then the video cut out. 

Carisi sucked in a breath and growled, “Stay. Away. From. Him.” 

“Answer my questions and I will.” 

Carisi glared but nodded. 

“So, is it love?” 

“…Yes.” 

“Have you told him that?” 

“No. Not yet.” 

Tony laughed. “Not ever. Still think your cop friends are gonna save you? Come bursting in here to rescue you? Take you away from me?” He leaned in close. “Let me tell you, Detective. You’re mine, now. They’re never gonna find you. They’re never even gonna find your body. Your family’s gonna have to bury an empty coffin.” And he leaned back again. “So. Do you think he loves you?” 

Carisi was shivering again, and this time not just from the cold. “I don’t know. I hope so.” 

“But wouldn’t it be better for him if he doesn’t? Easier to get over your death if he doesn’t love you?” 

“…Maybe.” 

“Only maybe? Maybe.” Tony nodded. “Maybe you don’t love him as much as you think.” 

Carisi stayed silent and glared. 

“Nothing to say to that? No? Okay. How long have you been together?” 

“…Four and a half months.” 

Tony raised his eyebrows. “And you’re already in love? That was quick.” 

Carisi was reluctant to answer. “We were…kind of together before that. We were…” 

Tony smiled, and it slowly widened into a grin. “Fucking. Go ahead, you can say it. Before he became your boyfriend, he was your fuck buddy.” 

Carisi had nothing to say to that. 

Tony laughed. “I thought you were a good Catholic boy. You went to Mass last Sunday. Took Communion and everything.” 

Carisi felt a chill go through him. “You been having me followed?” 

“Only every second of every day since my brother died.” 

Carisi swallowed hard, thought about Barba and the danger he had been in just being near to him. “I’m grateful for your concern.” 

Tony laughed at that. “Think nothing of it.” He watched Carisi for a while, neither of them speaking. Then, “So, Special Victims Unit. That must have been a tough job, dealing with living victims. I would think even Homicide would be easier to handle than that. Sex crimes and dead kids. What could possibly have drawn you to that? Be honest now.” 

Carisi didn’t really want to bare his soul to this man, but he was still mindful of his boyfriend and Tony’s threat to go after Barba if his questions weren’t answered. 

“It was the victims that did it—the women especially. The ones that were so clean and made up but with old bruises under their makeup…murdered by men they knew, their husbands or their boyfriends. They must have known it was coming, but they did nothing to stop it. I had to get away from that, get to a place where maybe I could help. Help stop it before it happened. SVU was a way for me to keep women from becoming Homicide cases. A way to put myself out of work, I guess.” 

Tony leaned back in his seat and nodded. “I get it, I do. It’s actually kind of beautiful. I’m no monster, Detective. I hope you helped some people, I really do. Maybe it will give you some peace now that you’re so close to your own death, that you were able to do some good. I hope it does.” 

Carisi tried to think of something to say to that, something brave, or bold, or at least snarky, but in that moment he was robbed of words. He cast about. “Maybe now we should talk about something I want to talk about.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “All right, Detective. You have something to say? Go ahead.” 

“Why don’t we talk about you brother’s arrest?” 

Tony froze. 

“Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday,” Carisi said, warming up to the topic. “See, one team went in the front, another team went in the rear entrance, and I was at the very back of that team. So I was heading in the back when I heard a noise, and I went around the side and what did I see? A side alley no one’s got covered. And there’s a window opening and a man coming out. And of course I recognized him, it was our suspect, Alonzo Caputo.” 

Tony scowled, though he still said nothing. 

“So it was just him and me, staring at each other. And then he broke and ran. My gun was already out, I yelled at him to freeze, but he kept running, and what could I do? I wasn’t about to shoot a man in the back, so I gave chase." 

Carisi knew he was being reckless, maybe pushing Tony to do something terrible to him, but he was filled with fear and rage at Tony for threatening the man he loved and he was driven to taunt Tony with total disregard for his own safety. 

“I didn’t know where he was going, at first, I mean, we had the front and the rear covered, remember? That’s when I saw the fence. I had to catch up to Alonzo before he could get over it, right? I got close to him, and that’s when he kicked me in the face. Let me tell you, that hurt, he came this close to breaking my nose. I was down, he was up and almost over…and somehow I got my feet under me and grabbed him. Brought him down and cuffed him. 

“Get it? He would have gotten away, if it weren’t for me. I didn’t just arrest him, I _stopped_ him. Now do you want to talk about that?” 

Tony was staring at Carisi, perfectly still except for his shaking hands. Then he stood up, sat down, stood up again and paced away. He turned back around so Carisi could see his flared nostrils and wild eyes. Carisi’s heart was pounding with fear but he didn’t let it show. He just stared Tony down and waited for him to blow. 

“‘Stopped him?’ ‘Stopped him,’ Detective? You want to watch your mouth, it’s gonna get you into trouble.” He was shouting now. “I’m gonna stop you now. Yeah,” he wiped spit off his lips with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna shut you up.” And he went to work on the buckle of his belt, opening it and sliding the leather out of the belt loops of his slacks. He walked around behind Carisi and before the detective could even guess what he was doing, Tony had looped the belt around his neck and slid the tab end of the belt through the buckle to form a noose. 

And then he tightened it. 

Carisi lost his breath and choked, struggling to draw air but his throat was closed under the pressure of the belt. Tony shook Carisi as he throttled him, shouting, “Stopped him! _Stopped him! Shut you up!_ ” 

Carisi’s lungs screamed for air. His throat worked but he was only able to make little gagging noises. Spots swam around in front of his eyes as he strained and fought to draw air and got nothing. The pain of the belt around his neck was a thing far secondary to his continued thwarted attempts to draw breath. 

_Air!_ and it felt like his lungs but really it was his brain shrieking, _Air!_

Tony’s voice faded out. Carisi’s pain faded out. Everything faded out and faded away, and then it was black and blacker than black, and he was gone. 

** 

As noon rolled around and no further progress had been made, Barba found himself feeling ill and left the precinct. He meant to go home, but gave the Uber driver Carisi’s address without even thinking about it. When the car pulled up he slipped the guy a twenty dollar tip and got out. It was snowing again, fat, wet flakes, the sidewalk covered in slush, dripping icicles hanging from the overhang sheltering the doorway. He went in and used the elevator, couldn’t help imagining Carisi in there, bound, gagged, bleeding, trapped in a crate surrounded by violent men being carted away—away from him, the man who loved him. Away from them all. 

Carisi’s door was covered in yellow crime scene tape and there was a red sticker sealing the door shut which he had to slit open with a pen. When he went in he found that the apartment was still a mess and there was black fingerprinting powder on multiple surfaces. The blood was still on the floor and the wall, the spilled alcohol…no one had even righted the furniture. He did that first, then got some paper towels to wipe up the Scotch and picked up the broken glass. He got out a mop and a bucket, filled it with warm water and soap and prepared to clean up the bloody footprints but he froze just as he lifted the mop. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t bring himself to erase the last traces of Carisi like that, just wipe him away like dirt on the floor, just soak him up and wring him out. He knew he was being irrational, knew that it was just blood, not Carisi, but he still put the mop back in the bucket and pushed it aside. 

He went into the bedroom. He looked at the bed, at Carisi’s pillow, still with the indentation from his head from the morning before. He sat down and picked up the pillow, put it to his face and inhaled Carisi’s scent. He hugged it to his chest and laid down with it, on Carisi’s side of the bed, the right side next to the clock because Carisi obsessively checked the time whenever he woke up in the night—and he always woke up in the night because he never slept all the way through; he was an insomniac. Barba never had any trouble sleeping, but sometimes he stayed up late with Carisi, no matter how tired he was, reading, or just lying there, or holding each other, kissing slowly, whispering sweet words in honeyed tones—until at last they fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

Now Barba lay there alone. 

His mind flitted here and there, but it kept coming around to all the terrible things that could be happening to Carisi at that very moment. Whoever had him obviously had no qualms about shedding his blood. What did they want him for? Why did they take him? Did it have to do with something that happened while Carisi was with SVU? Homicide? Back when he was still a uni? There were years of history there, how were the detectives going to find the one pertinent case amid years of records? He had been so confident when he was talking to Rollins, but there, on his own, it was hard to believe. 

He should have told Carisi he loved him. Should have, could have, would have…What was the point of wishing? He’d had so long to tell him, it was all his fault. He’d loved Carisi almost from the moment they met. Carisi was sunshine personified, never corrupted by all the darkness surrounding him…Never even fazed by the abuse Barba had hurled at him to cover his feelings…He had acted the hard-ass. He had tried to deny what he felt. Until the night when it all unraveled, when he couldn’t hide is anymore, when it all exploded…in his office, of all places…on the floor of his office, specifically. 

… 

_Last Spring…_

Carisi and he were in Barba’s office late, past ten. Carmen was long gone. They started out going over Carisi’s testimony for court two days away, but after only an hour they both settled on the couch with glasses of Scotch. That seemed to happen often, Barba giving himself a reason to keep Carisi around. But then, Carisi never seemed in a rush to leave, and this gave Barba hope. They spoke about different, mostly unimportant things, bodies angled toward one another, thighs pressed together. 

Conversation trailed off and they sat in silence, which Barba usually had no problem with, he had never been one of those who felt the need to fill quiet spaces with chatter. This silence was filled with tension, though, a tension which kept building until something had to break. 

“Are you—” Carisi began but Barba would never know what he was going to say because at that moment he turned and gripped Carisi’s jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss. Carisi kissed him back right away, hands going to Barba’s neck, his sides, to trail his fingers up Barba’s inseam, to palm Barba through his pants. Barba rolled his hips up into the pressure, made a helpless little noise into Carisi’s mouth. Carisi’s lips went to Barba’s neck, bit along his jaw, tugged at his earlobe with his teeth. Barba pulled Carisi’s shirt out of his pants and slipped his fingers up under the button-down, putting his palm on the flat plane of the other man’s belly, feeling the flex of muscles under the skin. He dipped his fingers under the waist of Carisi’s pants, then out and down the zipper, and squeezed. Now Carisi was the one moaning into Barba’s mouth. 

They broke apart and Barba said, “Tell me what you want.” 

Carisi tripped over his own words, babbling, “Anything, anything you want, tell me anything, I’ll do anything you want.” 

Barba smirked and leaned back. “Detective, take off your clothes and get on all fours.” 

“Yes, Counselor,” Carisi said, biting his lower lip and nodding. He jumped up and started to undress while Barba went and locked the door of his office. Then he turned around and watched Carisi strip. He was already hard from Carisi’s hand on him, now his dick was a throbbing ache. Carisi took off his clothes quickly, his eagerness to obey Barba’s peremptory command evident. When he took off his shirt Barba saw that Carisi was flushed a delectable rosy pink from cheeks to chest. As he stepped out of his pants and stuck his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, he glanced up at Barba a little shyly, gave a crooked smile, then bared himself. Barba palmed himself while Carisi got down on the floor and onto his hands and knees. 

He walked over to Carisi and knelt beside him, traced Carisi’s lips and then slid his hand down Carisi’s neck, over the smooth curve of his shoulder, over his ribs and side, his hips, and up to the perfect globes of his ass. He used both hands to cup the buttocks and squeezed. Carisi arched his back and thrust into his grip. Then Barba leaned forward and licked a stripe up the split between the cheeks. Carisi gave a little moan and a shiver, and Barba smirked again. 

He parted Carisi’s buttocks and pressed his tongue to the puckered hole hidden there. He traced the rim, then pushed his tongue in as far as it would go. Carisi was whimpering and pushing back onto Barba’s tongue. Barba wiggled and twirled his tongue around in Carisi’s tight channel, then pulled away and went up to Carisi’s head. He pressed three fingers against Carisi’s lips, who opened up to take them in. He laved them with spit, swirling his tongue around the fingers, all the while making delightfully obscene sucking noises. When his fingers were fully soaked, Barba withdrew them and sat behind Carisi again. With his dry hand he slapped Carisi’s ass, hard, once, twice, Carisi crying out and panting. 

Then Barba slid one spit-slick finger into Carisi’s hole, eliciting a moan. He crooked his finger, pressing against the bundle of nerves secreted inside and Carisi shouted. Another finger, another brush against the prostate, and again Carisi cried out, groaned, “Another, another, come on, Counselor, I’m ready.” 

“Hush,” Barba said, using his other hand to slap the same buttock. The he inserted the third finger and screwed them all in, crooked them to push on Carisi’s prostate again and again. It was hot, the sounds Carisi was making, his little shivers, his panting, biting his hand and making muffled sounds of pleasure. On and on, until he reached for his cock and Barba smacked his hand away. “I didn’t say you could touch.” 

Carisi whimpered and put the hand back on the floor. Writhed and keened as Barba drove him on and on toward orgasm until he couldn’t take it anymore and he came untouched, shouting, shooting out onto the floor, and collapsed. 

Barba took his fingers out of Carisi’s ass and leaned back against the couch. He reached over to the table, took a tissue from the box and wiped his fingers, then tossed it in the trash. “You still alive down there?” 

Carisi, flat on his stomach, pillowed his head on his arms and turned to face Barba with a grin. “I’m good.” 

Barba smirked, shifted uncomfortably, cock still stiff and aching. Carisi noticed and got up to his knees, threw himself forward and tugged at Barba’s belt. He got it open but when he tried to pull down Barba’s pants he got hung up. 

“Fucking suspenders,” he muttered. Barba laughed and slid his suspenders off his shoulders so Carisi could shove his pants down enough to get his cock out. It sprang free from his underwear, purple and rigid. Carisi turned that same bright grin on Barba, then dove into his lap and swallowed him down to the root. 

“Christ!” Barba shouted as Carisi started to give him the best blowjob of his life. He ran his hands through Carisi’s hair while the younger man sucked him down. His talented tongue was at work again, swirling around Barba’s cock. He pulled back to work the glans, to tease the slit, lapping up the pre-cum that pearled on the tip. Barba tried to hold back but he bucked his hips up, forcing his cock deeper into Carisi’s mouth. The detective just moaned, and Barba took it for encouragement. He thrust up again, rolling his hips to drive his cock in and out of Carisi’s mouth, using the tight, wet tunnel of the other man’s mouth for his own pleasure. Carisi just kept sucking him down until, before long, Barba climaxed, pumping cum down Carisi’s throat. Carisi just swallowed it down like he loved it, took it all, every drop, before pulling back and laying his head in Barba’s lap. 

“Christ,” Barba said again, caught without his usual eloquence. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

Carisi laughed and rolled over to look up at him. “Do you really want to know?” 

Barba decided he really didn’t want to hear about Carisi’s history with other sexual partners. “No, I guess not.” 

“Thought not.” 

Barba ran a hand idly over Carisi’s hair, petting him with a sudden affection that he felt he needed to cover up. He pulled his hand away, and ordered, “Tidy me up.” 

Again, Carisi grinned and got to his knees. He tucked Barba’s cock back into his underwear, zipped up the pants, redid the belt, replaced the suspenders. Barba reached out and ran a hand down Carisi’s chest, then smirked and told him, “Get dressed.” 

“Yes, Counselor,” Carisi said in a husky voice and damn if Barba’s dick wasn’t twitching in his pants again already. 

… 

_…Present Day_

Barba lay in bed on Carisi’s side thinking about their first time together in his office and felt guilty at the hard-on the memory gave him. He decided to ignore it and, instead of attending to himself, he turned out the bedside light and lay in the half-light coming in through the thin cracks in the closed blinds. It didn’t take long for his erection to flag; he was miserable and afraid and alone. Wherever Carisi was, it wasn’t with him, and that was all that counted. 

All that counted in the world. 

** 

Carisi woke to a banging coming from overhead. And another. Then the distinctive sound of a door crashing in. 

“Carisi! Carisi, where are you?! Call out!” Was that Liv? It sounded like her. 

“Lieu!” he tried to yell, but his voice was little more than a choked whisper. 

He listened to footsteps pounding around overhead, then the door at the top of the basement stairs opened and people came swarming down. They were wearing blue jackets with POLICE and NYPD printed in yellow. 

“Thank God, thank you, Lieu, thank you.” 

Liv rushed over to him, put her hand out, but couldn’t seem to decide where it was safe to touch him. He was hurt all over, though the pain was now vague and distant. 

And then Barba was there, standing at the back of the crowd of unis and detectives moving around the basement. 

“Sonny,” Barba whispered, came close. 

Carisi stood up and walked to Barba. They met in a passionate kiss, licking into each other’s mouths, hands roaming. 

“I love you,” Carisi said, pulling back, relieved to finally be able to say it. 

“I love you, too,” Barba said and Carisi was happy…So happy… 

Then Tony was there, standing beside him. “Detective? Detective? What are you dreaming about?” 

Carisi was confused. He looked around him and the people in the room just stood there, staring at him, not moving. Barba was frozen, too, face impassive. 

“What are you dreaming, Detective?” 

Carisi woke in that cold, gray basement, shivering, hurting everywhere, in agony, broken ribs, throbbing foot, beaten face, muscles aching, swollen knee…Tony in his face. 

“Detective?” 

Carisi looked around and saw that other than Tony, he was alone. So close. So close to being free, but it was a dream, all a dream. Liv, Barba, all the others, gone. Never even there. 

He didn’t want to give Tony the satisfaction but he couldn’t help it. He started to cry. Tears ran down his cheeks, a sob escaped him. 

Tony smiled smugly. “There it is. There it is. The light in your eyes is gone. Finally. Took long enough.” 

Carisi knew, then. He was going to die down there, in that dirty, dark place, God knew where, he could be on the dark side of the moon for all he knew. His body would never be found, Barba and his family and the squad would never know what happened to him. He had to accept it, he had no choice. It was over, they were never going to know. 

He was going to die. He cried and cried and began to pray to God to prepare his soul. He never thought he would die without last rights. He wished he had his rosary at least. 

“You see it now, don’t you?” Tony said. “That this is the end for you. You’ve accepted it, you see it.” 

And he did. 

Tony reached out and gathered up a tear from Carisi’s cheek with his finger and put it in his mouth to taste it. “Mmm.” 

“A cross. Can you bring me a cross? Please, it’s all I ask. Please, Caputo, a cross. Just that, give me that much.” 

“A cross,” Tony said. “I can do that.” He turned away to the tray beside him and picked up the scalpel. He bent over Carisi and put the blade against the detective’s chest. “A cross, coming right up.” And he put pressure on the blade, one long stroke down, one short stroke across. “How’s that?” 

Carisi couldn’t keep in the sob in, it hurt, another wound, this one deep and flowing blood. He couldn’t take it stoically anymore, couldn’t face the pain. Too much, too much. God, take him, God take him in peace. 

“Ready yet? Ready to beg to die?” 

Carisi thought about it, God help him, he really did. But something in him cried out against it—cried out from the depths. He just couldn’t do it, couldn’t give up in such a disgusting manner. Couldn’t end his life begging like a dog. 

“Not. Going. To. Happen.” 

Tony narrowed his eyes and scowled. “Fine. Have it your way. But I tell you, Detective, I’m not done with you yet, not by a longshot.” 

Another few precious hours of life, all of them spent in agony. God protect him, though he limped through the valley of the shadow of death. In his little voice he began to recite the Lord’s Prayer. 

Tony just grinned and crossed his arms in smug, triumphant satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took me so long to post. I got held up halfway through the conversation between Tony and Carisi. Don't know why, but there you are, and I pushed through. I think it turned out pretty well...leave a comment and kudo if you agree!


	4. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I said before, the title of this story comes from a movie of the same name. The movie and my story have absolutely nothing to do with one another, I just thought it sounded cool! Fun fact-A Third Season episode of the show "Supernatural" has the same name.
> 
> So, I took a long time to finish this chapter. I'm afraid life--and my health--just got in the way. I wanted to get it posted ASAP so I really only gave it a couple of read-throughs, instead of waiting a day to edit it as I like to do. So, please forgive any glaring typos...I think I've managed not to leave any terrible inconsistencies. If I have, please let me know in the comments section.
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy! Please validate my existence with comments and kudos!

When Barba’s phone rang he looked at the clock—5:13 PM. Almost 24 hours since Carisi was taken, and the thought of all that time ticking away made his stomach tighten and bile rise up the back of his throat. He swallowed it down and checked the Caller ID. Liv. 

“What have you got?” he said as soon as he answered. 

“I thought you’d want to know that Carisi’s ex-partner from Homicide just arrived. He brought a box of files with him and we’re going through them now.” 

“I’ll be right there.” 

“I’d tell you that that’s not necessary but I know how useless that would be.” 

“You’re damn right.” Barba hung up without saying goodbye. He went into Carisi’s bathroom to throw some cold water on his face. He toweled himself off, looked into the mirror, and winced. His hair was tousled, his suit was wrinkled, his tie askew…and he didn’t bother to fix any of it. He just went into the living room, grabbed his coat and left the apartment, using his key to lock up on his way out. 

He didn’t want to wait for an Uber so he flagged down a taxi instead. Rush hour traffic was a nightmare and it took him almost an hour to get down to the 16th Precinct. On the way he stared out the window at the people on the sidewalk and in the other cars on the road. People on their way home to loved ones at the end of the work day, everything in their lives going right, no one they cared about in danger or in pain. He both envied and resented them. 

When they pulled up, Barba practically threw the money at the driver and bolted from the cab and into the Precinct. The elevator was slow and claustrophobic; he was grateful to get out of it when he arrived in the hallway outside the squad room. When he entered it was to find a strange man sitting with Fin at the conference table by the evidence board with files and folders spread out in front of them. Barba headed over but was intercepted by Liv as she came out of her office. 

“Rafael—” she started, then stopped and stared at his disheveled appearance. He defiantly refused to fix his hair or smooth the wrinkles from his clothes. Appearances didn’t really concern him at the moment. 

“Yes?” 

She shook herself and walked him over to the conference table. “Rafael Barba, this is Andy Richards, Carisi’s old partner from Homicide. Richards, Barba is our ADA.” 

The man turned and flashed a toothy grin. “I’ve heard of you, of course. Did you really get a rapist to strangle you in open court?” He jumped up and offered his hand to shake. Barba hesitated before taking it, pumped twice before dropping the hand, and then took a few steps back from the man. Richards didn’t seem to notice or mind Barba’s standoffishness, his smile never wavering as he sat back down. Liv shot Barba a look but he ignored her and continued to give Richards the eye. 

“So,” Barba said, ignoring Richards’s question, “catch me up.” 

Fin spoke up from his seat next to Richards. “We’ve been pulling old Homicide cases that might be relevant.” 

“Yeah,” Richards said, holding up a file. “Like this one, Martin Hayes. Spiked his wife’s Gatorade with anti-freeze over the course of a month, Sonny and I made the arrest. The autopsy proved he did it without a doubt, but the guy wouldn’t take a deal. His brother, Jim made some pretty specific threats against us both outside the courtroom at the trial. I gotta say, though, I don’t make him for this. Neither of us were really worried at the time, the guy was full of hot air.” 

Liv nodded, said, “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get an alibi from him for last night. What else stands out to you?” 

“Uh,” Richards said, as he looked through the folders spread out on the table before him, then grabbed one up. “Okay, yeah, this guy. Ben Chin murdered his mother, cut her up, buried her in the basement and continued to collect her social security checks for the next three years.” 

Fin made a sound of disgust, and Barba remembered Liv telling him once that Fin’s mother had been murdered right in front of him. 

“Sonny lost his temper with Chin, went hard at him in interrogation, really got in his face, you know? He even went around Chin’s place a few times after the guy made bail. Chin ended up suing Sonny and the department for harassment but the suit got dropped. He ended up making a deal and got three to five.” 

“That’s all?” Fin burst out. 

Richards shrugged. Barba disapproved of his nonchalance in the face of Fin’s obvious distress. In fact, there wasn’t much about Richards that he did approve of. 

“There was some kind of fuck-up with some of the evidence, it was mishandled and was ruled inadmissible. They had to plea it way down. Sonny was pretty pissed…hell, we all were, but Sonny…he took it personally. Came pretty close to the line after sentencing when he confronted Chin before they put him on the bus to Rikers. Anyway, he should be out by now.” 

“Amanda,” Liv said, pointing at the female detective who also sat at the table, “check with the DMV, see if they’ve got a current address for him.” 

“On it.” She did some rapid-fire typing one her laptop, then made a face. “Nope, Chin left the state last year, he’s in Nevada.” 

Liv looked just as frustrated as the rest of them. “All right, Richards, can you think of—” Just then someone’s phone rang and they all checked their cells. Liv was the lucky winner and she answered with a terse, “Benson.” 

They waited—impatiently—for Liv to finish up until she straightened out of her tired slouch and cried, “Really? And you have a match? Okay, great. Thank you, Melinda.” She hung up and turned to face their eager attention. “They found another man’s blood in Carisi’s apartment. It took them this long to locate and test it because it’s just a few small droplets, but they got a match. Leo Minetti, two arrests for assault, he served time for arson and he’s got one dropped charge for DV.” 

“A real winner, then,” Barba snarked. 

“So Carisi got a piece of the guy. Way to go,” Fin said, nodding and smiling. 

Rollins had already pulled their new suspect up on her laptop. She turned it around so they could all see Leo’s photo on the screen. “Look familiar to anyone?” 

The resemblance between Leo Minetti and the composite sketch the elderly Mrs. Hugen had helped to put together was undeniable. 

“Richards, did Carisi ever have a run-in with Minetti?” 

Richards shook his head slowly, frowning. “No, doesn’t sound familiar. I think I’d remember a guy who looked like that.” He pointed at Rollins’s computer screen. 

“All right, Fin, Rollins, go pick up Minetti. I’m going to go see Mrs. Hugen and see if she can pick him out of a photo array.” 

“Can I do anything?” Richards asked. “I’d really like to help.” 

“You’re pretty far outside your jurisdiction, Detective. Why don’t you stay here and keep going through your files.” She didn’t wait for his reply before turning on her heel and walking into her office. 

Barba narrowed his eyes at Richards before following Liv. 

“Liv, let me come with you.” 

She opened her mouth but he cut her off. 

“Please, Liv. It’s not like I’ll be in any danger, you’re going to talk to a little old lady. She’s a grandmother, not a violent criminal.” 

“You can come if you tell me one thing. What’s your problem with Andy Richards?” 

Barba looked away from her piercing eyes and just barely kept himself from fidgeting and shuffling his feet like a recalcitrant child. 

“What is it, Rafael? Are you jealous of his relationship with Carisi?” 

Barba looked up in shock. “You know about that?” 

Liv’s jaw dropped and she stared at him for a moment while Barba cursed his tongue. 

“I meant their friendship, their partnership. Are you telling me Carisi was romantically involved with his partner?” 

Barba sighed. “Not really. Not seriously. They barely even dated, it was just—” he stopped before saying the word, “sex” but Liv could probably hear it in his tone and see it in his expression. He tried to read Liv’s face, hating the thought that she might be judging Carisi poorly for his choices. 

Liv schooled her features and nodded. “Is that it then? Are you jealous of their past relationship?” 

Barba scoffed. “Do I really seem that insecure?” 

Liv shrugged. “Normally I wouldn’t say so, no, but you never know when it comes to love,” she said, and when he opened his mouth to protest she raised her eyebrows and looked him right in the eye. 

Barba couldn’t stand up to it and he slumped and sighed. “I don’t know why I dislike him, Liv. Maybe it’s that shit-eating grin of his, I don’t know. I just know that I don’t like him and nothing you can say will change that.” He tried to sound defiant but was afraid he came off more petulant. 

Liv looked like she wanted to say more but she held her tongue. “All right, I’ll drop it for now. I’ll call Mrs. Hugen, let her know we’re coming. Wait for me in the bull pen.” She pointed and stared at him until he left her office. 

“Mr. Barba!” 

Barba stiffened up and scowled before turning around to face Richards. 

“Yes, Detective?” he said coolly. 

This time Richards did falter but he recovered quickly, Barba had to give him that. 

“You and Sonny, you’re friends, right?” 

Barba eyed the man for a second. “What makes you say that?” 

“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his head and giving a crooked smile, “the last time I talked to Sonny he mentioned he was getting friendly with an ADA, and then here you are, looking so concerned for him, and I kind of put two and two together.” 

“Friendly…” said Barba. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.” He wasn’t about to reveal the depths of his affection for Carisi to a stranger before he had even made such a confession to the man himself. 

“Maybe…Maybe more than that?” Richards said, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows. 

Barba bristled, opened his mouth to say something scathing, but Richards cut him off. 

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business, I know. It’s just, Sonny and I…We were real close once upon a time, you know?” 

Barba nodded. “I’m aware of that.” 

Richards’s eyes widened. “Sonny told you about that…about…him and me?” 

Barba pursed his lips and waited a beat before responding. “He did.” 

“So,” Richards said, nodding as if it all made sense to him now, “you _are_ more than just ‘friendly’ then, huh?” 

Barba resented his knowing tone of voice and was about to say so when Liv came out of her office in her winter coat. “All right, let’s go.” 

“Detective,” Barba said to Richards with a curt nod. 

“Counselor,” Richards replied, also nodding and flashing that toothy, shit-eating grin again. 

Barba had a whole host of things he would have liked to say to the man but he held his tongue and followed Liv to the elevator. 

** 

It was hard to walk past the door of Carisi’s apartment with its crime scene tape on their way down the hall to the Hugens’ place. Barba tried not to look at it. Liv knocked and while they waited for an answer, Barba straightened his tie and ran a hand through his hair to try to neaten up. He didn’t want to look like some kind of madman to this sweet old lady. 

“One moment, dear!” came a voice and the door opened to reveal Mrs. Hugen. “Oh! Two visitors, what a nice surprise. Please come in, I’ve made tea.” 

Liv and Barba stepped inside the apartment. 

“Have a seat,” she said, and Liv and Barba took seats on the plastic-sheathed sofa. “I’ll just go into the kitchen and get another cup.” 

“Please, don’t go to the trouble,” Liv said. 

“Oh, tish-tosh, it’s no trouble at all,” she said and left the room. 

Barba looked around. In front of the sofa was a low coffee table set with a tea tray and a plate of oatmeal cookies. The room was crowded with furniture but comfortable, end tables and book cases topped with doilies and plastic-covered Queen Anne chairs draped with Afghans. The wallpaper was green with red cabbage roses, the colors clashing but still managing to be pretty. 

“Here we are,” Mrs. Hugen said, coming in and placing a china tea cup in front of Barba. “I’ll pour.” She filled three cups. “Do you take milk with your tea, Lieutenant?” 

Liv shook her head. “No, thank you, Mrs. Hugen.” 

“And you, Mr. Barba?” 

“No, I’m good, thank you.” 

“Both so polite!” she exclaimed as they sipped at their tea. “It’s so encouraging to see manners in the younger generations.” 

Barba almost choked at being referred to as “young.” 

“Mrs. Hugen,” Liv said, putting down her tea and pulling a tablet out of her purse, “I’d like to show you some photos and you tell me if you recognize the man you saw in the elevator last night. Would that be all right?” 

“Of course, dear, I’m happy to do anything I can to help Sonny.” 

Liv handed over the tablet and showed her how to scroll through the photos of random men with one of Leo Minetti slipped in. 

“Oh here he is, yes, this is him.” She turned the tablet around and pointed to the picture of Leo. 

Barba let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

“Are you sure? There are two more photos,” Liv said and Barba knew that she was just being thorough but he had to restrain himself from scowling at her for making Mrs. Hugen rethink her identification of the suspect. 

“Oh yes, positive. You don’t forget a face like that.” She hesitated, then asked, “That’s a mug shot, isn’t it? He was very polite but he’s a bad man, isn’t he?” 

“Yes, Mrs. Hugen,” Barba said. “He is.” 

She frowned. “Do you think…do you think he and those other two men with him would hurt Sonny?” 

Barba tried to answer her but couldn’t speak through a suddenly tight throat. Liv gave him a look of sympathy before saying, “I hope not, Mrs. Hugen, I really do.” 

All Barba could think of was that bloody handprint high on the wall in Carisi’s living room. 

** 

It was snowing again when they got outside, big fat flakes swirling down and blanketing the city in white. The plows had come through in the night and pushed snow to the sides of the road where it sat in towering embankments getting filthy and gray from pollution and gravel and dirt. Cars parked along the sidewalks were buried in snow, trapped until they could be freed by shovels. Barba felt a little like those cars, stuck in place until he could be set free by…by what? 

_By Sonny._

Back in the car Barba looked at his watch. 7:30 PM. 24 hours since Carisi had been taken, 24 hours missing, 24 hours gone. As Liv merged them into traffic Barba practically vibrated with impatience. 

Liv felt it and glanced over. “Barba, we’ve got a real lead, now. Please, try to stay calm.” 

Barba snapped at her. “Calm Liv? Really, calm? Are _you_ calm?” 

Liv sucked in a breath and he thought she was going to snap back but then she let it out and shook her head. “No, not really.” 

Barba stared unseeing out the window. “Look, Liv, I know you’re trying to help, but you can’t give me the usual line of bull shit. I know better. I just…I know better.” 

Liv nodded. “I’m sorry, Rafael. I know you’re hurting and I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. Carisi is one of mine, you know? He’s my responsibility. I’m coming at this from two directions, here. On the one hand I’m a cop trying to find a victim. On the other I’m just a civilian frightened for her friend. I’m doing everything I can not to lose perspective, and if that means taking a step back and pushing down my emotions, then so be it. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to find Carisi.” 

Barba was silent for a moment, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know that, Liv. And I appreciate it, I really do. I’m just…I’m not myself. Usually I pride myself on being logical, aloof…letting cooler heads prevail and all that. But right now all I can think about is the fact that I love Sonny and I never told him that, and now I may never get the chance.” 

Liv took one hand off the steering wheel and reached over to hold his hand. “You’ll get the chance, Rafa, you will. I promise.” 

Barba sighed. “You can’t make me that promise, Liv.” 

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It’s just…” 

Barba finished for her. “It’s just what you say?” 

Liv sighed and said nothing. 

** 

Just as Liv was pulling into a parking spot in the Precinct lot she got a phone call and pulled her cell phone out of her coat pocket. “It’s Fin,” she said, checking the Caller ID. She answered. “Go ahead, Fin, you’re on speaker.” 

“Hey, Liv, we went to Minetti’s home but he wasn’t there. His wife said he’s got a shift in a few hours at, get this, a strip club called Taboo Gentleman’s Club, where he works security.” 

Something about the name sounded familiar to Barba, and he frowned in thought. 

“All right,” said Liv, “sit on that club and the second you see Minetti, bring him in. I don’t care if you have to make up a reason to arrest him, just bring him in.” 

“Liv,” Barba said as it came to him, “I know that place.” 

Liv looked over at him, her eyebrows almost up to her hairline. 

“Excuse me, Counselor?” Fin said over the speakerphone. 

Barba rolled his eyes. “Not like that, I’ve never been there, I just remember the name from a case that came across my desk when I was still with the Brooklyn DA’s office. That club, Taboo, is a known mob-owned business. Did Richards say anything about any cases where they dealt with the mafia?” 

“Not that I remember,” Fin said. “Carisi was Homicide, not Organized Crime.” 

“Still, it can’t hurt to ask, can it?” Barba said. 

“No it can’t,” Liv said. “Fin, you and Amanda don’t come back without Minetti, you got that?” 

“Copy that, Liv,” Fin said and then hung up. 

Liv put her phone away and turned to meet Barba’s eyes. “Let’s go talk to Richards.” 

** 

Back in the bull pen they found Richards still seated at the conference table surrounded by files and folders. 

“Sorry, Lieutenant, I haven’t found anything that stands out—” 

Liv cut him off. “Detective, can you tell me if you and Carisi ever had any cases that dealt with the mob?” 

Richards’s face went blank for a second, then he scratched the back of his head and frowned. “I don’t know, we didn’t really deal with the mafia in Homicide, I—Wait! Yes! I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. Alonso Caputo, beat his mistress to death in the apartment he paid for. He’s a Made Man for the Bonano Family. He almost got away when we went to arrest him but Sonny ran him down. And at trial, well, I’d say Sonny’s testimony really helped put Caputo away. But Caputo couldn’t have gone after Sonny, the guy got 25 to life, he’s still in prison.” 

Barba already had his cell phone out, looking up the name on the Internet. A chill went through him when he read through one of the results. “Alonso Caputo died in a prison riot six days ago. He left behind a wife, kids…and a brother, Tony Caputo, also reputed to be a Made Man.” 

Barba typed some more on his phone, looking up the web site for the strip club. 

“Taboo Gentleman’s Club, Owner and Proprietor…Tony Caputo.” 

Barba looked up from his phone and turned his eyes first on Liv, then on Richards. They were all wide-eyed, breath coming quickly. 

“Liv—” Barba started. 

“I’m going over to Caputo’s right now. Richards, can you get an address for me?” 

“On it,” he said, pulling out his phone to make a call. 

Barba looked at Liv, heart pounding and opened his mouth, but she cut him off. 

“No, Rafael, you’re not coming with me this time.” 

“You can’t go alone, this is a mobster we’re talking about, he could be dangerous.” 

“And what exactly would you be able to do if he were? Cut him down with your deadly wit? No, I’ll get a uni to come with me.” 

Barba considered arguing but he knew she was right. He was very good at facing down violent criminals in court, but would be useless in a real-world confrontation. Carisi had shown him how to fire a gun once, out of a protective streak a mile wide, but they had used an unloaded weapon in their bedroom and Carisi had warned him how different the real thing was. 

_”Recoil’s a bitch, Raf.”_ Barba could hear Carisi’s voice without even trying. 

Just then Liv’s phone rang and she grimaced when she looked at the screen. 

“Dodds,” she said and answered. “Hello, Chief…Actually, we have made some headway.” Liv walked into her office as she told Dodds about Leo Minetti and the brothers Tony and Alonso Caputo. 

Barba and Richards kept an uncomfortable silence between them while they waited…to do nothing. Neither of them had a thing to do and it was killing Barba. Every time he had a spare second his mind turned to Carisi and his fear for him. He tried not to think but no one with a mind like Barba’s could turn off his own thoughts. His mind raced with worry and anxiety, dread…while at the same time, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was composing the closing argument for a case he was supposed to bring to trial the next week. Pointless, all of it pointless. 

“Barba, come in here, please,” Liv called from her office and Barba obeyed. “Close the door,” she told him, and again, he complied. 

“All right, I’m not going to tell you to go home, although I think that would be a good idea…” 

She looked at him and he held his head up high, staring her down. 

“Right,” she said, “that’s what I thought. You can stay here, but on one condition. You have to get along with Richards.” 

He opened his mouth but she cut him off. 

“No. I don’t want to hear it, Rafael, I don’t know what you have against him and frankly right now I don’t care. Now do you want to argue about it or do you want to let me go and get back to the business of finding your boyfriend?” 

Barba sighed. “All right. I’ll… _play nice_ …with the—” 

Liv obviously knew or at least guessed what kind of language he was about to use to describe Richards and she cut him off with a look. 

“Do it for me, please?” she begged. “Or better yet, do it for Sonny.” 

Barba hesitated, then nodded. “All right.” 

For Sonny. 

** 

Carisi shivered and felt the cold in his bones. He was numb to higher emotions, knowing only pain and dumb, animal fear. 

Tony Caputo sat in front of him with the whisky bottle again. He tilted it toward Carisi and lifted an eyebrow. “Want some?” 

Carisi nodded. 

“What’s the magic word?” Tony asked. 

Carisi just stared at him. 

Tony laughed and held the bottle up to Carisi’s lips and poured some whisky into his mouth. Carisi gulped eagerly, drinking down every drop. Tony pulled the bottle away. 

“Want more?” 

Carisi nodded. 

Again, Tony tilted whisky into Carisi’s mouth. 

“More?” 

Carisi nodded again. Tony held the bottle up to his lips and Carisi swallowed the alcohol, more and more until the bottle was empty. 

Tony sat back and put the bottle on the floor. 

“You were really thirsty, huh? I suppose I haven’t been taking care of my honored guest. How rude of me. I mean, look around you. The accommodations are atrocious.” 

Carisi relished the burn in his throat and chest. He considered speaking, couldn’t think of anything he wanted to say. 

“Nothing? No?” Tony threw back his head and laughed. “No. You’re broken now, aren’t you? No more smart-mouth comments, no more brave face and stiff upper lip. No.” Tony got in Carisi’s face. “You’re my bitch now, Detective. Aren’t you?” 

Carisi couldn’t even summon a response to that. _What’s wrong with you?!_ screamed a voice from somewhere too deep inside himself to take control. 

Tony watched him in his near-catatonia, waiting for him to speak up, but got nothing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

_Snap out of it! You’re pathetic!_ But Carisi didn’t listen to the voice…that voice that for some reason sounded a lot like Barba’s. In fact, he could barely even hear it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Barba, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

“You’re sorry? Oh, Detective, you’re a constant joy.” Tony laughed again and Carisi felt the hysterical urge to laugh along with him. He forced it down and stayed mute. 

“Well, if you’re not going to talk, I guess it’s up to me to carry the conversation. How about…How about I tell you what I’m thinking about right now? You know what I’m thinking?” This time he didn’t wait to see if Carisi would reply. “I’m thinking about what to do with your body. To be honest, I’m not really sure yet. There are so many options. I could douse you in lighter fluid and burn you. I could dismember you and scatter you across the Tri-State area. I could just bury you in North Jersey. It depends on how I’m feeling after you’re finally dead. Besides being pleased as punch, of course.” 

Carisi just stared, kept breathing, kept living. Kept surviving. What else could he do? 

Just then a phone started ringing and Tony held up a finger. 

“One moment, Detective, just let me get this.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. “Ah, it’s a good friend of mine. Feel free to call for help, if you like, he won’t do a thing for you.” Tony answered his phone. “Hello? Yes, I’m glad you called. Yes, I’m still with the Detective. Where are you? No kidding! Isn’t that a laugh? So what do you need?” 

For a brief second Carisi considered calling out but he believed Tony when he said it was useless. 

“Is that right?” Tony was still talking on the phone. “Are they on their way now? Well, I guess I’d better hurry over to meet them. Thank you for the heads up. Will you be stopping by later? I think the Detective would really like to meet you.” He hung up and smiled at Carisi. “Seems the police are on their way to my house right now to bring me in. Apparently they have some questions they want to ask me.” 

How did Tony know that? Did Carisi care? 

“Let me make a call.” Tony tapped out a number on the touchscreen of his phone and held it to his ear. “Yeah, Leo. I need you to come here and keep an eye on our guest while I deal with something. I’ll be gone when you get here but I don’t think the good Detective is going anywhere. In fact, I’ll make sure of it.” He shot Carisi a look as he hung up, a wicked smile on his face and that sick gleam back in his eyes. 

Carisi felt the stirrings of enhanced fear, something akin to terror. _I will not beg. I will not beg._

“Yes. I’ll make sure you don’t go anywhere. Can’t have you getting into mischief, can we?” He turned to the table covered in torture instruments and picked up the nail gun. He grinned at Carisi and placed the tip of the nail that stuck out of the gun between two of the tendons stretching across the back of his right hand. 

Carisi tried to move his hand, even knowing that he couldn’t free himself from the duct tape binding both wrists to the arms of the chair. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t.” So much for not begging. 

Tony’s wide smile did not waver. He pulled the trigger on the gun and the nail shot through Carisi’s hand. He threw his head back and screamed, though it came out thin and reedy through a throat gone rough with his previous cries and an airway sore from being choked with the belt. 

Blood gushed from his hand and Carisi stared at the thick red liquid in fascination, thinking distantly that it was kind of beautiful. 

Tony went over to Carisi’s left side and poked the next nail into his skin. He looked at Carisi, winked, and shot it home. 

This time when Carisi tried to scream, no sound came out at all.


End file.
